


Finding Purpose

by poutypanic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poutypanic/pseuds/poutypanic
Summary: You've been living alone in Hanamura for the past five years, and are content to stay that way. You have a troubled past and have let it isolate you. One night a ruckus is coming from the Shimada Castle. Against your better judgment you check it out, eventually, you end up befriending an archer with a past as equally troubling as yours.This is a romance/fluff and slow burn, coupled with action and angst.





	1. Getting Out Of The House

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that I've been wanting to get started mostly for myself for a long time now. Though I really do hope that you guys will enjoy it. I have big plans for this thing lots and lots of chapters planned out. I can't say exactly how fast they will be coming out but I will try my best to work on it regularly. As the chapters progress a lot more ovw characters are going to end up being introduced. For the moment it's just Hanzo. Enjoy :)
> 
> Come bother me on [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)

It's a rainy day in Hanamura, and a small house stands amongst other small houses overlooking the ocean. This is where you live. Where you’ve tucked yourself away from the world absent from any real form of socialization for over five years now. There are reasons for this, but it’s stuff that you're not willing to think on often. Standing outside on the balcony you let the ice cold rain pelt your face. The downpour soaking your hair and clothes almost instantly. It's melancholy, but you’ve always enjoyed the feel of rain.

The nano-machines hum under your skin. They are responding to the cold. Keeping your body warm, and allowing you to stand out in the storm for a little while longer. The weather is too cold, too bitter. In turn, the machines are threatening to push their way out to cover you from head to toe. They are here to try and protect you from everything, even the weather. It’s a love-hate relationship with the things that are always just underneath your skin. They provide admirable protection from the elements, bullets, explosions, and harsh hits. However, they are not without their downfalls. The machines reek havoc on your body. They make your bones hurt. When they pull themselves from your pores it's like rapid needles pulling themselves out over every inch of you.

In other words, it hurts like hell. For the most part, you can control their appearances. But sometimes the machines seem to have a mind of their own. You head back inside and the humming under your skin starts to quiet down. The only companion you have in the world is nuzzled into the crook of the couch snoring, tongue out, and twitching from a dream. It must be exciting because she is starting to bark. A part of you is always afraid she is having a nightmare. You're not sure if dogs can have nightmares, but your guilt always pushes you to wake her up when she starts to woof in her sleep.

You gently pat her soft belly until she wakes up. Then she groans and stretches all four of her furry little legs. Promptly falling back asleep after. You wish you could sleep like her. Instantaneously and for hours at a time but your sleeping patterns are erratic at best. Nonexistent at worst. Seeing your sleepy pup makes you think it's time to try for a nap. However, fate and circumstance are not gonna allow that. When the first boom sounds off in the distance you ignore it. Thinking that it must have been thunder. Then another one sounds off and you're sure that it's not. Something is happening. You run out to the front of your house where you can see smoke billowing up from the Shimada Castle.

Another boom sends an electric shock through your chest into your heart. It starts to beat fast against your chest, causing the machines to start humming again. You tell yourself you don’t care about what's going on up there. You had chosen this little corner of the world because it was supposed to be quiet. For the most part, it has been. Tonight is the first time in five years it has truly betrayed your expectations. Sometimes the machines act like your second conscience. When you try to walk back inside and ignore the scene they grew uncomfortably hot, prodding at your insides, and turning your stomach in on itself.

Your fists clench in frustration. You've heard just about every damn rumor there is to hear about that place. Whatever nonsense is going on there is defiantly none of your business. Yet, when gunshots started to ring out piercing through the loudness of the storm the machines take it upon themselves to emerge. Not ready for them, you fell to your knees. You curse and protest, as they covered your body in the world's most impenetrable flexible material. Billions of nano-machines coming together to make you one of the most well-armored people on the planet. The pooch had woken up when she heard your cry. She stands in front of you now. Tail wagging, concerned for her owners well being.

“Fine.” You say bitterly, “I give in. I’ll check it out.”

Before you leave you run into your garage where you keep a plethora of illegal weapons. They are old and neglected. But they’ll still get the job if you need them to. You snap on a belt that holds a few pistols, a couple of old fashioned grenades, and a knife or two. If your history proves anything you might not have to use any of it. Enemies always get themselves killed when they are around you. 

You don't have a car so you have to run. The castle is about ten miles away and uphill. You have good endurance and strong legs. So you’ll get there shortly. Not many people are out in the rain. Some are determined to get groceries. While others are trying their hardest to get home safely from work.

That doesn't mean that you don't have eyes watching you from afar. People are out on their balconies, as well as windows. Curious and concerned about the spectacle going on at the Shimada castle. The glances that you catch are in awe of you. While some are understandably fearful. You approach the castle from the east side weaving between trees and you attempt to scale the wall. On a dry day, you're not the best at climbing. Today is making it extremely difficult. You fall. Twice. Before backing up, getting some determination, and a running start. Third times a charm and you make it up and over. There are multiple angry voices coming from inside. Several men are barking orders in Japanese.

After several years living in Japan, you’ve managed to learn minor Japanese. From what you can make out they are trying in a heated manner to find someone. There’s a window you can sneak into but it’s gonna require more climbing. A fall can still hurt you, even with the machines protection. If you sneak in and startle them it's not going to go over well. Then again will any course of action go over well here? You decide that no it won’t. Then throw caution to the wind and walk right in the front door. Five men are huddled together pointing dangerous looking guns up towards the ceiling. There’s a rather menacing fire in the far corner of the room along with three smaller scattered ones. It's safe to assume they are from the plethora of explosions that had caught your attention and brought you here.

Pained groaning comes from the stairs where they have laid their wounded. Three men all have various amounts of arrows protruding from their bodies. One man is littered with them, it doesn't look like he is going to survive. The men in the center of the room have yet to notice you walk in. They are too afraid of whoever is hidden in the rafters to pull their attention away.

You clear your throat, “Excuse me? Boys? Maybe you should bounce things don't look to be going to well for you here. Your colleagues over there could really use a hospital.”

Their attention snaps to you. Suddenly you’ve got the barrels of five guns pointed at your head and body. But you're not afraid. You keep your hands at your sides while they demand that you throw away your weapons and drop to your knees.

“Listen. I’m not going to do any of that. For your own good don't shoot me.”

Their threats get louder and they step closer to you. "Get _down! Get down! Drop your weapons! We will not hesitate to kill you, you have five more seconds to comply!"_

They never listen, never heed the warnings, but you try one more time.

“Do not shoot me. You will regret it.”

In the defense of the fools who are about to shoot at you; you don't look like much of a threat. Even covered from head to toe in your nano-machine armor it just looks like you are wearing a simple body suit. Like you just came from snorkeling in the ocean and neglected to remove your wetsuit. Right as they are about to open fire, an arrow flies out of a corner in the ceiling whistling as it flys through the air. Planting right into the neck of the man at the front of the line. One of the men deviates his attention. He lets off a spray of bullets into the corner where the arrow came from. Then one of the others makes the unfortunate mistake of shooting at you. You don't fully understand how the machines work. You probably never will. But you do know for certain the familiar feeling of having them take the bullets in for the shortest amount of time; only to throw them back at terminal velocity into whomever the bullets came from. The machines are aware of who is shooting at them.

To the naked eye, it looks like the bullets are simply ricocheting. But it's not that simple. Something only you know. Not something you could explain in a scientific manner with big words and elaborate definitions. All the people who could do that have long been dead. All of the bullets that made contact with you have gone back to the shooter hitting him in his torso and legs. He falls to the ground dead, the fate of fools. There’s only three left standing now. Dumbstruck and horrified. You take in a deep breath the machines bend in slightly,

“I warned you.”

They bicker amongst themselves and quickly decide that they are going to move out. When they do they are _still_ pointing their guns at you as if that would keep you from harming them. They keep their distance while they grab the men who are still living and take their exit. All the while, promising to whoever is still hidden away up high that they would be back,

_"_ _You’ll never be free of the clan!"_

You should leave as well. As it's quiet now, and you're not needed here anymore. But your curiosity gets the best of you, as it often does. Leisurely you walk over to where the men were standing plant your hands on your hips and search the rafters. In a search for the person they were trying so hard to kill. Someone drops down behind you with a soft thud. You spin around nearly grabbing your gun but stop yourself. A bow comes down on your neck. Then swings into your gut; one, two, three times. Nearly causing you to fall over.

You stand your ground and block with your arms, “Hey! Hey! Knock it off I’m not the enemy!"

“Hey! Hey! Knock it off I’m not the enemy!"

The man is wielding his bow like a katana and poised to fight you some more. The quiver on his back is empty and he’s hurt. Blood is running down the side of his face so much it’s dripping onto the floor. He’s got a nasty looking burn on his wrist. Along with lots of other smaller cuts and bruises. He’s exhausted defiantly had a hell of a hard time.

He demands through clenched teeth, “Who are you?” 

“Who are you?” 

You throw your hands up trying to show you mean him no harm, “Nobody. I’m just here to do some damage control. I’ll leave.”

“Nobody. I’m just here to do some damage control. I’ll leave.”

The archer's posture softens ever so slightly. Beyond the blood and the bruises, he is handsome. A face blessed with defined bone structure. An angle at nearly every focal point. The fire in the room has started to dissipate. The rain seems to be doing a good job at keeping it under control. Which is good because it doesn't seem like the city’s fire department cares much about coming to put it out.

“Do you understand who you were talking to? Those men. They will not forget how you’ve slighted them.”

You shrug. You doubt they’d be able to pick you out of a lineup. As the machines hide most of your facial features.

You turn to leave, “They can keep me in their thoughts. You should get some medical attention. I gotta go, good luck with whatever you're dealing with.”

You can feel his curious gaze on your back. He’s confused, still not understanding why you showed up. Well, he can get in line. You're still confused as well. It had been years since you last found yourself in a dangerous situation like that. 

The run back down the hill is exhilarating. You're going way too fast, feet pounding the concrete. The rain is still pouring down from the sky. You are going to feel that run in the morning. In no time, you're back inside your quaint little house as if you had never left. The pup is fast asleep like she always is and doesn’t move an inch when you come in. You get down on your hands and knees in your living room. Grip the carpet, grit your teeth, and brace yourself. Then let the nano-machines retreat back underneath your skin. It always hurts less when you're ready for it.

The clothes you are wearing will need to be thrown out and it's a shame; you really like this shirt. The machines never tear your clothes to shreds. But they leave little holes in them as if the garments had been laying in a moth infested closet for years. You always wonder if the bots are taking the fabric back into your body with them. It's something you're paranoid about. So you don't dwell on it for too long. Instead, you prepare your ointment because your skin is inflamed and red. Like you've got an extreme case of hives. It’s nothing you're not used to. It’s always like this after the machines retreat. 

In not time you're already immersed back into your private little world. As if you had never even left. Because of this, the knock on your door startles you.

You take one of your pistols hide it behind your back and cautiously open the door. Shock paints your face, it’s the archer. Still bleeding. Now soaking wet, the golden scarf he is wearing in his hair is drooping down to the side.

“I…what? You followed me! That’s extremely inappropriate.”

“Anyone could have. Including those men you shrugged off.”

_Wow!_  What a reckless oversight on your part. You aren't going to admit it but he is right.

“Did they?”

“No.”

A heavy sigh of relief, “Why are you here?”

“I would like to ask you for your help.”

You roll your eyes, you're not happy about this, “You mean _more_ of my help? I’ve already helped you once today.”

He takes your attitude with stride, “Yes. More of your help... please.”

You lean on the door contemplating if you're going to turn him away or not. The archer waits patiently, leans against the door frame using a tattooed arm. He's starting to look unnaturally pale, faint, and like he might be sick any moment now. The machines hum under your skin. You can't in good conscience tell him to get lost.

“Fine. Get in here,” you point a finger in his face, “Just know I am fully capable of kicking your ass.”

“I am aware.”

He tries to walk in but you stop him with a hand to his chest, “Wait a second. I wanna at least know your name before you enter my house.”

“Hanzo. Hanzo Shimada.”

_What._ Oh, you’ve defiantly heard this guy's name before. More than a few times when listening to stories and rumors in the bars that you occasionally go to. The look on his face says, _oh so you've heard of me?_ You almost take back your invitation. The rumors surrounding him have been far from flattering. You remove your hand from his chest. There is always two sides to the story.

“Welcome to my humble home Hanzo. Take a seat in the kitchen, don’t get blood on my carpet damn it.”


	2. Asking Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~I promise they are gonna get along one day~~
> 
> I just wanted to make a small comment about the dog. I'm not giving her a description or a name because I want you guys to picture whatever kind of dog you want, with the stipulation that's she's a small/medium sized pup. You can name her whatever you'd like as well :). I just think it helps make it more personal that way.

Even after you had already let Hanzo into your home, you still insisted he go find a medical professional to help him. Hanzo informs you that hospitals are out of the question for him. Especially in Hanamura. The clan is paying the staff at the clinics to report him if he happens to wander in. Fine. You'd do your best. Hanzo was quiet as you cleaned up his head wound. Then gave him stitches, put cooling gel on his wrist, and disinfected the scratches and cuts. He is cooperative. Heeding every command you give him. You caught him staring at your skin several times. The expression on his face hard to read. You are trying to adjust your attitude. Become a bit warmer and welcoming. But the staring is starting to get on your nerves.

“You wanna ask a question?”

His eyes squint, “Hm?”

“You're staring. It’s rude.”

Hanzo responds by hastily looking down and away from you. A pang of guilt hits you in your gut. He’s given you no reason to be so curt. Still, you get what you want. He’s not staring at you. He won’t even look at you anymore. The only thing left to do is wrap up his head. You remove the gold scarf. Carefully fold it up so you can lay it in his lap. Then clean away the crusted blood with a warm dish rag. When his hair is cleaned up it’s actually very… nice. Smooth, glossy, and it feels good in your hands. It’s almost therapeutic running your fingers through it. You freeze up for a moment realizing that you’ve been pulling his hair back far more than you need to. You scold yourself, _"Don’t be a creep, you weirdo."_ After collecting your senses, you then tie up his hair with a proper hair tie before wrapping his head in gauze.

You decide it might be a good idea to try and be nice, “That’s a

“That’s a real nice tattoo you have there.”

Hanzo nods. That’s it, just a nod. You take a deep breath and look up towards the ceiling. It seems the man doesn't know how to say thank you. Perhaps you could have been just a tad bit more sincere about it. The tattoo really is beautiful. An elaborate full-length arm design of a dragon. Colored in cool shades of blue that match his clothes. And now you're staring, such a hypocrite. Hanzo fidgets with his scarf, rolling it between his fingers, then balling it up into his fist only to let it go again. You offer him water and some pain medication. He only takes the water and drinks the whole glass within a few gulps.

He places the glass on the kitchen table. Then absent-mindedly turns it a couple of times, 

“May I ask you a question?”

You make sure the exhale of your breath doesn't sound like an exasperated sigh. _Be patient_ , you tell yourself.

“Go ahead.”

More turns of the glass, “I do not understand how you survived that gunfire. Or how you threw it back at the one who shot at you. It must have been what you were wearing but what you had on hardly looked capable of withstanding those shots.”

“Have you ever heard of the phrase, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

He looks up at you through dark eyelashes, “Your sarcasm does not help me understand.”

He’s throwing the attitude back at you now. You have the natural inclination to toss it back. Instead of being difficult, you pull out a chair from the table and take a seat, “It’s complicated.”

Hanzo looks confused as if what you’ve said has nothing to do with what he asked. One could argue that it doesn't, and you're trying to avoid the questions. You don’t like talking about the nano-machines. Questions about the machines always threaten to lead to questions about your past. It's just not something you talk about. But today is already out of sorts. A downright surreal experience. You’ve got the man who was supposed to take over a clan of assassins sitting at your kitchen table, (one of the rare things in all of the rumors that had stayed consistent) and you haven't thrown his ass out yet. In fact, you’re going to explain the bots to him. You’ve never explained them to anyone. This is nerve wracking for you. You sit forward in your seat and hold out your arms. The swelling and redness are starting to fade, but still in need of ointment.

“I have these tiny little bots that live under my skin. When they emerge they form one unit. Together they protect me from a lot of stuff. That suit I was wearing, that’s all the nano-bots when they're together. When something or someone is shooting at them they throw it back. They’re smart they know who’s trying to harm them. The bots are a second much more protective skin than the skin I was born with.”

You pause to see if Hanzo wants to interject. He doesn't say anything. He just stares at you waiting for you to give him more detail.

“You see they are right here,” You point at the underside of your chin. Then point down to your toes, “All the way through the rest of my body. There’s an abundance of them in my shoulders because the ones in my shoulders not only cover well... my shoulders, but they also are the ones that come up and over my head to form a helmet type thing. Protect my dome from getting blown to pieces.”

“You speak of them as if they are living beings.”

You bring your arms back into your lap, “Sometimes it feels that way.”

The _sometimes_ part of that sentence is a lie. It _always_ feels that way. But you realize it sounds crazy to say you believe that you have billions of sentient bots living inside of you.

“How do the… bots send the bullets back with such precision? Do you have to assist them in this task?”

That’s a question you can only partially answer, “No I don't assist them. They just... do what they do. I don't know how they do it.”

“You don't know?” His tone sounds mocking, and the phrase is nearly spat out.

“I don’t know a lot.”

“This is something you should know. Having knowledge about your strengths and abilities is crucial. Especially when it is something so complicated.”

You're starting to become defensive. The warm feeling of anger growing in your belly. You still back, frown and cross your arms. Shrug your shoulders and say,

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

Hanzo crosses his own arms as well and shakes his head. A tangible look of disapproval on his face. _How rude!_ You're done with the questions and nearly done with him.

“Listen. I didn’t ask for these things. Nobody gave me a fucking manual. A god damn tutorial or a class. I only know what I feel and what I experience.” You hop up out of your seat, “I need to take care of myself now. You can stay for a little while longer. Gather your strength but when I get back out here I need you to be gone.”

You storm out of the kitchen. Make your way into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You are reminded why you don't connect with people anymore. You don’t need this stress or the third degree. Who does he think he is, coming here asking you for help? Then showing absolutely no gratitude for it. You'll feel much better once the man is out of your sight and mind for good. 

You take your time with the self-care. Taking a cold shower isn't your favorite way to get clean, but it’s better for your skin. When you get out you park yourself butt naked on the bathroom floor. Rub the ointment over your skin. Making sure to carefully massage it onto just about every inch you can get it. Then you lay back on the cold tile. Bathroom floors have always been a comforting place for you. There is something about them that just seems... calming. Like some strange realm where time and the outside world doesn't exist. You take several deep concentrated breaths. Come to the conclusion that this all wasn't so bad, you’ve always let things get to you far too easily. When you finally pry yourself up off of the bathroom floor it’s late. So you throw on some sweats, and then dramatically mourn the loss of your clothes, before carrying them out into the living room with you. Intent on tossing them in the trash.

When you finally pry yourself up off of the bathroom floor it’s late. So you throw on a mismatching pair of your favorite sweats. Then dramatically mourn the loss of your clothes, before carrying them out into the living room with you. Intent on tossing them in the trash. Your heart jolts, and you stop dead in your tracks. Your mouth drops open in disbelief. Hanzo is still here. He’s sitting on the couch petting the pup, who is having a delightful time. You place a hand on your hip and wait for him to explain himself. If you have to speak first the words that are going to end up coming out are not going to be pretty.

“This is a beautiful dog.”

You are absolutely baffled, “Thank you?”

“How old is she?”

“Fifteen.”

He looks up at you as if you’ve just said the most ludicrous thing he’s ever heard, “Are you sure? She looks like a puppy.”

You nod more aggressively than you need to, “I’m super duper sure.”

“That is admirable, you have taken good care of her.”

You take a seat at the opposite end of the couch, “I can't take credit for that, she used to belong to an elderly man, he got her when she was just three months old, when he passed away I took her in, I’ve only had her for about five years.”

“I can't take credit for that. She used to belong to an elderly man. He got her when she was just three months old. When he passed away I took her in. I’ve only had her for about five years.”

“Not a lot of people are willing to take in old dogs.”

You twist your clothes in your hands. This is bringing back all of the stress and anxiety. You just desperately want to be left alone. To be able to go back to the way things were before you had the brilliant idea of sticking your nose into business that had nothing to do with you.

“Hanzo? What are you still doing here? What do you want from me?”

Hanzo picks up the dog holds her close to his chest. Gives her scratches behind the ears. It’s as if he’s trying to use her as support against the scorn he knows you're about to hurl at him.

“I need to ask you for a favor.”

You have to laugh. It’s not a good laugh, but a crazed exasperated one.

“You have got to be kidding me! How much more are you gonna ask of a complete stranger?”

“A lot more.”

You point towards the door, “Get out.”

He doesn't budge, “Hear what I have to say, I don't do this often.”

You have had it. 

“Do what often? Get on peoples' nerves? Be an inconvenience? Insult the person who helped you?”

“Beg for assistance.”

A harsh dramatic scoff pushes itself from your chest. You don't know what to say anymore. If you keep talking you are only going to get louder and meaner. So you sit back, place your hands in your lap, and wait for him to start talking.

“When my families empire fell a lot of victims got taken down with it. There are children who were born into the clan who have lost their parents. No one is around to protect them anymore. The clan does not treat them right. Their welfare is on my shoulders. I need to get them out but I can not do it on my own. With your help I know we can free them. They are victims of circumstance. They deserve a better chance at life than the one they’ve been given.”

Hanzo leans forward a bit trying to catch your gaze but you won’t let him have it. He doesn't need it anyway. You swallow a lump in your throat. If only you were heartless, “How many of 'em are there?”

You're still not looking at him but he sighs with relief anyway. You're starting to relent and that is all that matters to him.

“Thirteen.”

“Okay... so we get the kids out. What then? What are we gonna do with a bakers' dozen of children?”

“There's an honorable woman who runs an orphanage. It's roughly five hours south of here. She has agreed to take them in. We just have to get them to her.”

Hanzo seems to have most things figured out. That's great but there’s the small issue of getting along with each other, “What makes you think we are gonna work together well enough to get this done?”

“What makes you think we are gonna work together well enough to get this done?”

“I offer my apologies for the abrasiveness of my questions earlier. If I had been more clear with my intentions perhaps it would have seemed obvious that I was trying to understand your strengths for the purpose of us working together. I am aware of what I come off as. Despite my demeanor, I assure you I can be a team player.”

You finally get up the courage to face him. He’s looking at you with great desperation. You search his eyes for any sign of manipulation. Something that might seem off. But you find nothing but sincerity. You’re not wholly convinced but you want to be. Your voice drops to a whisper, “Two’s not much of a team.”

“The clan's militia has grown lazy and dull since the fall of the empire. They are without a good leader. They rely on their weapons instead of wits and skill. They will try to pacify you with guns that can not harm you. If you preoccupy them, I can sneak in and get the children out. I will lay out a plan, draw you a map of the compound. We will be successful.”

The bots are singing at the prospect of a fight. You wish they’d chill out. They are growing so hot you can feel yourself start to sweat. The truth is, you know you're more than capable but you're jaded. You’ve been in one too many situations where all the things that could go wrong do. You're so damn afraid of getting your feelings caught up in something bigger than you again. You’re not sure you would know how to handle that amount of pressure anymore. You stop trying to kid yourself you know you're already invested, “Alright.”

Hanzo perks up, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. I owe you a great deal.”

Yeah, yeah. You'll have to see how this goes down before you feel any better about it.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently learned that "Ya'll" is supposed to be spelled "Y'all" I am a gosh darn fool.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all :') liked it. 
> 
> Come bother me on [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)


	3. It's Not All Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some pretty heavy subject matter towards the end of the chapter just wanna give a heads up for tw: child abuse. 
> 
> Other than that this chapter is pretty lengthy, hope you enjoy :').

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super big thank you to [ Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial/pseuds/Demial) for being amazing she beta read this for me, you're a superstar!
> 
>  

Hanzo leaves shortly after you’ve agreed to the mission. He says he needs to get some supplies, and that he will be back in three days. Less, if he can manage it. It’d be a lie if you denied that a serious part of you hopes that he won’t come back. Two days and evenings pass, and Hanzo is back at your door again. He asks you if you’re ready to leave. It’d be better to approach the compound at night, and it makes it easier for him to sneak around. _I guess,_ you keep that comment to yourself. Instead, you give him a reluctant nod. 

For a person who was hoping that Hanzo wouldn't show back up, you sure were prepared to go. You had out a big bowl of dog food and water for the pup, had your alarm set to go off in five days just in case you didn’t make it back, and your will and testament conveniently left on the kitchen counter for the police to find. Your trusty duffle bag is filled to the brim with weapons, medical supplies, comms, extra clothes, and all sorts of other odds and ends you deemed might be useful. Before you follow Hanzo outside, you point out a chest in your garage that has a plethora of arrows in it. He looks at you quizzically, “I tried taking up archery once and found I didn't have the patience for it, so now I have all this… take as much as you want.” 

After he wraps up a large bundle of them in an old towel, he leads you outside to a military truck that he has parked in front of your house.

“Where’d you get a military truck from?” 

He takes your duffle bag and disappears into the back, “I removed it from a junkyard.” 

He couldn't see it but you were impressed, “You mean you stole it?”

“That’s what I said.” 

He hops out of the back, dropping the keys into your palm, “Please drive. I’ll direct you to where you need to go.” 

You’re not sure what it is about him that makes you want to fight him on absolutely everything, but you’re getting better at keeping it under wraps. Instead of questioning why you have to drive, you say, “Yeah, sure, fine, _I’ll_ drive.” 

You get in the driver's seat, immediately turning the truck on. It rumbles to life with the engine shaking your seat. You adjust the radio station from fuzz to something poppy and mindless. That's what you’d like to listen to. However, Hanzo scrunches up his face, eyeing the radio dial, “No.” 

You pursed your lips, “Hey! You’re the one who wanted me to drive. Everybody around the world, I don't care where you go, knows that the person who is driving gets to pick the radio station. That’s just how it works.” 

Hanzo sits back in his seat crosses his arms with that infuriating look of disapproval on his face. 

“Don’t be a music snob!” 

He just sits there slow blinking at you until you finally give up, “Fine! I’d _love_ to see what kinda music you wanna listen to,” You point at the dial with your whole hand, “Please, show me what good music sounds like to you. I can’t wait.” 

He sits forward, clearly already having a radio station in mind. He quickly finds it, sits back, and raises an eyebrow, _you like?_ You stare at the station name for a moment, because you are pleasantly surprised. It’s electronic mixed with undertones of folk, and it actually sounds lovely and fun. It's not something you’ve ever listened to on your own before. 

“Hmph. Maybe you’re not as much of a snob as I thought you were.”

Hanzo raises his arms using air quotes, “ _Don’t judge a book by its cover_ , yes?” 

You scoff, “Don’t we have a bunch of children we’re supposed to liberate?” 

He directs you out of town onto the right highway. He tells you to use a turn-off that takes you to a long stretch of road that he says you’ll be on for another two hours. It’s a long expanse of nothing, fields of water deprived grass, and what looks to be husks of what used to be thriving farmland. The closer you guys get, the more nervous you become. Your left leg is starting to bounce, and your fingers are drumming across the steering wheel. Hanzo to the eye is calm, but this means a lot to him. He’s nervous as well, though you won’t see it. He tells you to pull over into a tunnel under a lonely bridge. You guys will have to approach the compound from here on foot. 

At the end of the tunnel you can see the sun is starting to set. The sky is lighting up with soft oranges and purples. It’s a relaxing scene that doesn't match your mood in the least. Your leg is starting to go at a figurative million miles an hour, and so is your heart. You’re so fixed on the sunset that you don’t hear Hanzo say your name. He has to say it three times before you snap out of your trance. 

“What… yes? I’m here. I’m present.” 

He watches you as your leg still thumps and your fingers still drum. He’s made uneasy by this. He shakes his head, “This won’t do.” 

Your eyes widen, _what the hell does that mean?_ He hops out of the truck, leaving you behind. He stops at the front, taps the hood, and beckons you to follow him with his hand. Reluctantly, you get out of the truck and follow Hanzo as he walks out of the tunnel. The wind picks up, whipping around his ponytail and scarf. He looks regal standing against the background of the sunset. He finds a soft patch of grass to sit on and points to his left side, “Join me.” 

You’re perplexed, but you take a seat. The wind is cold. The bots were calm for the car ride here, but now that they know they are close to a fight, they are active, vibrating under your skin and poking at your pores, eager to be released. Hanzo settles in, closes his eyes, and bows his head, “Close your eyes. Breathe.” 

For the first time in your brief relationship with Hanzo, you listen without any inclinations of attitude. You’re grateful that he is taking the initiative to try and help you calm your nerves, so you follow his lead and try to match your breathing with his own. Gradually, your heart slows down to a more acceptable pace. Your stomach doesn't feel as ill, and your head starts to clear the fog. The light is starting to fade away now, and Hanzo gets up, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Stay.” 

When he disappears back into the tunnel, you take the brief moment alone to call out the machines. You place your forehead in the grass and give the bots permission to do their thing. The pain is over almost as soon as it begins, and you’re nearly ready to go. When Hanzo comes back, he has a rolled up piece of paper. He sits back down in the spot he had occupied before. He acknowledges the bots with a brief once over and unrolls the paper to reveal the compound map he had promised he draw out. 

He points to a large building, “At this time of day, the bulk of the men will be here; this is the dining hall. Whatever distraction you’re planning on making should happen over here.” 

Then he points to another smaller building on the other side of the map, “This is the children's quarters. That’s where I will be. They have patrols in every building, but I will be able to handle the ones there.” 

You nod, “Seems simple enough.”

This time you've got your weapons harness, the thing you use when you know you’re going to need all that you can manage to carry on your person. You set up the comms, hand Hanzo his, tap the bots over your ear, and ask them to separate for a moment so you can put your comm in. They make a small opening allowing you to do so, closing immediately after the comm is put in place. Hanzo points you in the right direction. You can see the outline of the wall around the compound in the distance.

He pulls out the map again, “If you’re looking at the map, we are over here, so you need to go that way to get where you need to be. I’ll go that way,” he says pointing in the opposite direction, “And wait for the distraction.” 

You take the map and tuck it away in a free pocket. You look at him hoping that since Hanzo can’t see most of your face that sincerity comes through in your voice, “Good luck.” 

“Same to you. Stay in contact with me, and let me know if you run into more than you can handle.” 

When Hanzo had said that the militia had grown lazy, he wasn’t kidding. The two men who were supposed to be guarding the wall you needed to get over were drinking and chatting, leaving you the opportunity to run up on them and knock them both out with the butt of one of your gun. You weren’t going to try and kill any of these men, but if any of them died, that’d be of their own stupidity. You place your hands on your hips, and hang your head. Your worst nemesis, a wall, is standing in front of you. You need to climb it, but it’s tall with little to grip onto. You wonder how Hanzo would react if you had to ask him to come give you a boost. You shake your shoulders out, stretch your neck, and clap your hands together, _you got this._

Determination and a little luck can get just about anyone anywhere, including you over this wall. Can’t say that you landed gracefully on the other side, because you didn’t. You land hard on the ground, guns burying into your back. You lay there for a moment to take some time to check your surroundings. The building you need to wreak some havoc in is to your left. Nobody seems to be patrolling it. You activate your comm through a remote you have hooked into one of the straps across your chest, “Hanzo? I’m in. Bout to do something.” 

A buzz in your ear, “ _Good. I’ll be listening._ ” 

After you catch your breath, you hop up, run over the building, and instead of walking in the front door this time, you decide to walk in the back one. It leads you into a kitchen where the staff is busy making food. They stop and stare at you with horrified expressions on their faces. These people don’t look like fighters to you. Just regular folks trying to do their jobs. 

You quickly holster your gun, “If you guys can do me a favor… don’t start yelling, and maybe get the hell out of here for right now. You should really steer clear of this building. You’ll end up getting hurt if you stay.” 

A young man who was peeling potatoes stands up, nods, and reiterates what you said to them in Japanese. It seems they are going to heed your warning. You don’t have time to stick around and make sure that they do; you’ll just have to hope for the best. You find the door that leads into the dining room. Your heart starts to race all over again, because there’s a _ton_ of men. Maybe ton is a bit of an over exaggeration, but there is at least thirty of them all sitting, chatting away, and eating their food, unaware that you are about to ruin their nights. You remove a couple of smoke bombs from your belt, pull out the pins, and toss them into the middle of the room. 

Red smoke quickly envelops the place. The men start to yell and cough. Plates crash onto the ground in a matter of seconds. It's utter chaos in the dining room. Before you had thrown the bombs, you took note of a staircase on the other side of the room. You head for it, sending off shots into the ceiling to let them know where the enemy is at, _back here boys follow me._

As your running up the stairs, you give Hanzo a quick update, “Now would be the time!” 

“ _Already on it._ ” 

The stairs lead you to a hall that leads to nowhere. It’s just a dead end. There are a few rooms, and you run for the one at the end of the hall. Loud, harsh footsteps are making their way up the stairs to meet you. You get into the room just as shots start to get thrown in your direction. You find yourself in a large pantry with cans upon cans of food and shelves piled high with large containers of spices. You don’t see a second way out of here. Not even a window to climb out of. Coming up here might have been a mistake, because you’re going to be cornered any moment now. You back away from the door to hide behind one of the tall metal racks for whatever good that’s going to do you. 

The door bursts open, and a man is yelling demands at you before he can even really see or know where you are at. When he rounds the corner, you hold your pistol up to keep him from getting any closer to you. When he sees you, he pauses, and so do you. Of course, out of all the possible clan members you could come face to face with, it would be one of the three survivors who you had met at the Shimada castle. Several other men are trying to fit into the room. The man glares at you, but lowers his weapon and holds a hand up to the advancing men. 

He motions for them to get out. When they don’t listen, he snaps at them, cussing and flailing his arms, “ _You can’t hurt this abomination with your guns, I think I might know what will do the trick._ ” 

When he gets them to listen to him, he turns to you and smiles, “ _Let's see if you can survive this_ , **demon**.” 

You’ve been called a lot of names in your life, but this was the first time you had ever been called a demon. You don’t have anything to say to him. You try and brace yourself for whatever it is he’s going to try. He spits on the ground before walking away from you. There’s some chatter out in the hall just before two live grenades roll into the room, and the door slams. The nano-bots harden up and make it difficult for you to get as far away from them as you can, you’ll survive; you’ve survived worse, but it’s always a natural reaction to try and run. When the explosions go off, they blast a hole right through the floor, sending you back into the shelves, and you fall through, landing face down onto one of the dining tables. 

Hanzo’s voice buzzes in your ear, “ _I’ve got them. Get out of there._ ”

You’ve got the wind knocked out of you, and your is voice temporarily lost to the explosion. When you don’t answer him right away, he says your name over and over, “ _Are you hurt? Tell me where you’re at!_ ” 

You manage to choke out, “I’m fine.” 

“ _Do you need my help?_ ” 

“No.” 

You try to roll yourself off of the table, but a heel hits your neck and slams you back down into the hard metal. Whoever is holding you down fires a shot at the back of your head. It immediately gets sent back, and the person topples over. They fall to the floor, limp. The smoke from the original grenades hasn’t faded that much, but you set off another one just in case. More red smoke fills the room, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Men are rushing around, bumping into each other, and asking each other where the intruder went. They don’t know who they are touching, so they end up not paying you any mind when you run into them again and again on your way out. You somehow manage to make it back out the same way you came in. You stumble outside and fall onto the dirt, disorientated. 

They still think you are inside. You can hear them yelling at each other about you, but it won’t stay that way for long. If you guys are going to have any chance of getting the truck out of here without it being spotted, then you have got to leave, and you’ve got to leave now. You don’t have time to think about scaling the wall; you’ve got so much adrenaline running through your veins that it’s easy this time around. You run as fast as your legs can carry you. Hanzo is just closing up the back of the truck as you approach. 

For a brief moment, his stance is hostile until he realizes that it’s you, “You should have let me know you were almost back.” 

“Sorry. My brain power was a bit occupied. Didn’t think about it.”

“Give me the keys. I’ll drive for right now.” 

You don’t think about why he’d want to drive right now. You’re so focused on getting as far away from this place and fast. You toss him the keys, hop into the passenger seat, and take a look back at the kids. You’re not sure why you partially weren't expecting there to be any. It’s probably the part of you that doesn't trust anyone that's expecting to see something more valuable. You expected to have been used for riches, instead of the good deed you thought you were fighting for. Your heart swells with relief, but also anguish, because there they are scared, famished, quiet, neglected, and wearing tattered clothes. They keep their eyes to the ground. The truck lurches forward, but you don’t notice. You're still shocked that the once empty bed of the covered truck is now filled, no, cramped, with thirteen young souls. 

One of them is softly crying. It’s a girl who’s huddled over a boy who’s laying on his side, clutching his stomach. Before you can ask, Hanzo says, “One of them is hurt. Can you see if you can do anything for him?” 

Ah, that’s why he wanted to drive. When you stand amongst the kids, you notice they are afraid of you. You realize how intimidating you must look to a bunch of children. You forget that you are still covered from head to toe with the bots and not looking quite human. The word _demon_ rings in your ears. You try to get the bots to retreat, but they won’t leave. They don’t feel that you are out of danger yet and refuse. You plead with them to at least uncover your head, so that they can at least see that you are just a woman. They allow you that much and pull back from your face and hair to rest back into your shoulders. 

One of the kids actually claps as if you’ve just performed a magic trick; a sweet looking kid with wild, unkempt hair. You drag your duffle bag over to the crying girl, and the hurt boy she is huddled over. When you get a closer look at them, you realize that they are twins. Before touching the boy, you ask his sister for permission, “May I see him?” 

She nods and backs away slightly, allowing you room to try and turn him over, but the boy protests when you try. He whines and kicks weakly. You can’t see any visible signs of blood, so he wasn't shot. You gently try pulling up his shirt, so you can see if there any other visible signs of trauma. When you try to do so, the boy’s body convulses and he lurches forward. Bright red blood sputters out of his mouth. His sister's eyes widen and tears start to fall more and more. She looks up at you, angry and desperate, “Kare o shūsei suru!” _Fix him._

You're horrified, and you don’t know what to do or say. You have a good feeling that you know what’s wrong. The brief look you got at his stomach showed deep purple bruises. This isn’t something you can fix; you can’t do anything for this boy. The boy's sister slams her fists against the floor, _fix him!_ You get up, leaving the girl to bang her fists and shout out in anger.

You already know what Hanzo’s going to say, but you have to say it anyway, “That boy is dying. I can’t help him Hanzo, he needs a-“ 

“We can not go to a hospital. The moment the clan knows they are gone, the first place they’ll look are the hospitals in Hanamura. We have to get them to the orphanage. There they will get legal paperwork. The proof that they exist. Once that happens, the clan won’t want anything to do with them. They aren’t worth that much trouble to them. Right now they are angry and spiteful. The biggest mistake we could make is a hospital.” 

_Fix him! Fix him!_

“He’s bleeding internally… did you see what happened to him?” 

_Fix him! Fix him!_

“No, the damage was already done when I got there.”

_Fix him! Fix him!_

You can feel the sorrow well up in your chest, and you hate it. You swallow a lump in your throat your voice a weak whisper, “Hanzo, I don’t know what to do for him… for her.”

She's even louder now and hitting the floor so hard that she might hurt herself, “ _FIX HIM!_ ” 

Hanzo abruptly stops the truck, gets out of his seat, and swiftly pushes past you, “Drive.” 

You take over the driver's seat. You can hear Hanzo talking to the girl in Japanese that is too perfect and fluent for you to understand completely. The girl keeps beating on the truck floor. Hanzo is quiet while she screams at him, waiting for her to finish before he starts trying to talk her down again. Soon enough the screaming turns into stern words said with volition. Volition turns into heavy sobs. Every time the boy coughs up more blood, his sister wails and whines. You hate to bother Hanzo with directions, but beyond getting back to Hanamura, you had no idea where you needed to go. 

“Hey Hanzo? I’m really sorry to bug you, but I need directions.” 

“Hold on.” 

Five minutes later he comes and hands you a piece of paper with detailed directions, including landmarks and time durations between each of them. Hanzo talks to the girl for a long time. He talks her through every little cough her brother exerts, every little moan or groan from pain. Several hours into the drive later, the truck bed is far too quiet. No more wailing, crying, or coughing. A heavy grief has fallen over the vehicle. You want to look back, but you’re too afraid to. You don’t need to to know the boy has passed. 

Now you're angry. Angry, for not treating those men the way they deserved to be treated. You were far too lenient in your method of distraction. You could have caused much more damage than you did. You have to stop yourself, because you’ve had plenty of sleepless nights thinking about what could have been. It does nothing, but make a person sick and insane. You decide to focus on the road and zone out until the drive is over. When you finally make it to your destination, it’s still dark, but the sun is just starting to peak over the horizon. You're too solemn to appreciate the quaint looking orphanage tucked away amongst mountains and trees. It certainly does look like a place of safety and warmth. 

Hanzo gets out of the back, and you watch him as walks up to the orphanage, knocks on the door, and waits. It’s not long until an elderly woman swings the door open, wearing long floral pajamas and pink slippers. She smiles, happy to see him. She grabs him by the arms, shaking him a little bit in excitement. You can tell the exact moment when he lets her know that one of the kids didn’t make it, because she frowns deeply and bows her head. Finally, you get yourself to look back. The kids practically hadn’t moved an inch from the original positions you had seen them in. A sheet has been lain over the boy. His sister is resting a hand on his forehead with her eyes closed. Silent tears are still streaming down her face. 

You point towards the open space, “You guys can get out if you wanna. Go stretch your legs, get some fresh air.” 

They look grateful to have received permission. They go one at a time, helping each other leave the truck, leaving only the sister and her twin brother. When you look back to Hanzo and the elderly woman, her face lights back up when she sees the kids. She clasps her hands together, walks down the steps, and motions for them to come to her. She has to cup every single one of their faces with her hands, and you see the word welcome on her lips. The woman disappears inside, along with all of the kids. Hanzo walks back and gently picks up the boy. The girl follows him, clinging to his pants, as they walk into the house. You take a moment to get out of the truck, so you can remove the harness, stretch your legs, and finally get the bots to retreat. 

You change your clothes and wait patiently for Hanzo to come back. You're leaning up against the truck, listening to the early morning birds. You forgot about the comm still being in your ear, “ _I’ll only be a little longer.”_

You grab the remote off of your harness, “That’s fine. Take your time.”

_“Thank you.”_

A little bit longer turns out to be almost an hour, which as you said is perfectly fine. You try to enjoy the sunrise, so it’s not all bad. The loss of the boy hurts immensely, but that doesn't negate all of the good that’s come out of this mission. Hanzo emerges from the house and doesn't look at you. Instead, he just gets right back into the passenger seat. You join him back in the truck. You’ll be happy if you never have to see this thing again after this is all done.

Hanzo stares out the window and doesn't give you any instructions, but you’re sure you just need to head for home. You’re sure he’ll lie, but you ask anyway, “Are you okay Hanzo?” 

He doesn't answer, just takes in a deep breath. 

“It’s okay to not be okay. I get it; I really do.”

“Do you?” he says. 

“Yes?” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not your fault he passed.” 

You’re confused, “I know that. But it- Hanzo it’s not your fault either.” 

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.” 

“I am _responsible._ None of them would have been in that situation if I hadn’t…” he drifts off and doesn't finish his sentence. Not something you’re used to hearing from him. 

You adjust your position in your seat so that you are facing him as much as possible, “It’s a terrible idea to beat yourself up with what if’s about the past. The past is the past, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. You can’t tell me you know for sure that that boy’s life would have been different, if you hadn’t done this or hadn’t done that. He could have ended up with the same fate regardless of anything you’ve done, but you know what we do know for sure? That those kids lives right here, right now, are better off, and that's because of your efforts.” 

“It’s because of yours as well.”

You scoff, “Yeah! But you had to fight to get me here remember?”

“Hmph. I do.” 

“I know my words probably don’t mean much to you, but I really do hope that you can see past your guilt and really look at the good you did here. 'Cause I can see it, and it’s wonderful.” 

You’re not prepared for the look he gives you. It’s pained, and his brown eyes are a little glassed over. He’s so tired and so emotionally wrecked. He puts in an effort to give you a smile, “Thank you, for your help and for your kindness.”

You chuckle, “I really wasn’t all that kind, but you’re welcome.” 

You head for home, keeping the music on low. Hanzo insists on taking over driving, but you’re fine. You hardly ever sleep anyway, so you’re used to running on low sleep. He sits back, bringing his right leg up over his knee. You try not to make it obvious that you can see he is fighting off sleep and trying to stay awake for you. When he finally gives into it, his head rolls over to the side to rest on the window. For the first time, you realize that when he inevitably disappears from your life, you’re actually going to miss him.


	4. Down Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader goes back to business as usual, with the exception of having a new roommate. This is a pretty casual chapter with some bonding time. Pretty lengthy. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading! You improve my work so much and I am very grateful! 
> 
> I just wanted to take a brief moment to apologize for the wait for the new chapter, and also explain a few HC's that I have that will be implemented in this story. I was away on vacation, as well as working on other things. So this kinda got put on the back burner briefly. 
> 
> As far as the HC's are concerned, they're nothing crazy creative or unique but it's how the Shimada Dragons work in my head. 
> 
> Hanzo: Ice. If you get hit by (the big versions) of the dragons, you're instantly frozen, dead and shatterable. 
> 
> Genji: Burn, but more along the lines of a chemical burn; think radiation and acid. 
> 
> Either way, it fuckin sucks to get caught in their cross hairs lol. Only Hanzo's really needed to be explained here, but I figured I might as well add Genji's as well.

You make an executive decision to dump the military truck just outside of town. Bringing that thing back to be parked right in front of your house is a bad idea. It'd be a big and ugly, “Hey! Yeah, they’re right here. The ones you’re looking for.” When you stop, Hanzo wakes up, and is already onboard with what you are doing. You guys have a long walk back. It’s this walk that provides you with the dismal realization that you are in a lot of pain. Not only is your skin irritated, but your hips keep cracking, your knee caps are popping, and your shoulders have an incessant throb. A heartbeat in each shoulder.

On top of all that, you’ve also got a sharp pain that starts from the base of your spine, and shoots up to blossom into your neck. Your eyes hurt, because maybe your lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. Perhaps it’s the double grenade explosion. Whatever the true reason is for your hurting, you’re not a happy camper.

When you guys make it back to your home, it's early afternoon. The pup is ecstatic to see you, even if you haven’t been gone that long. Her little paws dance back and forth at Hanzo’s feet, until he finally picks her up to appease her with pets and scratches. You think you might actually collapse, but on the way home, despite your weary brain, you had thought hard about something. You have to say one thing to Hanzo.

“Listen, I-ah… I don’t know if you stay anywhere, if you’ve got an apartment or house here somewhere, but I what I am trying to get at is if you need to, you can use my spare bedroom. It’s just there collecting dust, so you might as well stay in there if you need to… or you want to, I don’t know-“

He holds a hand up, “Are you sure? You don’t need to feel obligated to offer me that.”

“Yes, I’m sure. It doesn't need to be a big deal, but don’t bother me cause I’m plannin’ on shutting down for a good twelve hours. Spare key is in the second drawer right there.”

Hanzo takes note of the drawer and then continues to scratch the pup behind the ears; she really likes that.

He has a slightly smug smile, “I would never bother you.”

You ignore the sass and do exactly what you said you were going to do. This time, you don’t care that the hot water is bad for your skin. The muscles in your body are begging for it, so you indulge them, and make the water as scalding as you can stand it to be. When you immerse yourself, you’re there for so long that you end up falling asleep. Only waking up when you slip a little too far, your head sinking under water. Water floods your nose, and makes your brain burn. You launch yourself up out of the now lukewarm water, coughing and sputtering.

In the weeks that follow, Hanzo comes and goes. He’ll disappear for a couple of days, and you think, maybe this time he’s gone for good. Only for him to reappear in the middle of the night, while you’re on the couch watching dumb late night TV shows. While the pup is snuggled into whatever crook of your body she can get into. He leaves you be, so you leave him be. Even if you're curious what he’s up to when he leaves.

Sometimes he’s wearing street clothes, mostly joggers, and sweaters, and other times he’s wearing what you had first met him in. It makes you wonder if he’s off fighting new battles.You try not to let it worry you. Sometimes it makes you angry to be feeling that way; _after all, why should I be worried?_ What a dumb question, and you damn well know the answer.

One night when you are trying, and failing, to sleep, you realize the pup has disappeared. She’s nowhere to be seen on the bed. You look around the room a little frantically, and she’s not anywhere. This is disconcerting, because she is always by your side; the dog always has to be able to see you. Even when the pup is deep asleep, it’s like she has a sixth sense that tells her when you’ve gone too far. As long as you’re home, she’s got to be within close proximity to you.

Now you’re really starting to panic; you’ve checked the living room, the kitchen, and the backyard and still no dog. You start looking under things. You’ve heard that when animals know they are going to pass away, they will hide. It breaks your heart to think this, but where else could she possibly be? Then it hits you; Hanzo’s room. That’s the literal last place the dog could be.

If you weren’t so anxious, you’d just wait till morning to see if the pup showed up again. Sneaking into Hanzo’s room was not a thing you felt comfortable doing. But there was no way in hell your brain was going to let you rest until you take a look. Curiously enough, his door is actually cracked open, and just enough for a small animal to fit through. With all the stealth you can muster you poke your head between the door and the frame and… there's the little shit!

Hanzo’s back is turned to you and the pup has her back pressed up against his, tongue out, and she’s snoring.

You whisper-hiss at her, _“Traitor!”_

Backing out of the doorway, you end up knocking your head back against the frame. A loud thump reverberates through the wall of the room; _shit._ Hanzo wakes up and grumbles before looking over his shoulder to see you. Thankfully, it’s too dark for him to see how red your face is from embarrassment.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh-uh no! I just um… I was lookin’ for her,” you say pointing at the dog. “I couldn't find her anywhere, I swear I’m not creeping on you.”

He scrunches up his nose in confusion, and he strains his neck over his shoulder to see what you’re pointing at. A small smile creeps across his face, “Hello there, little one. When did you get here?”

Hanzo turns over so he can pet her belly and gently rub her ears. The blanket that was lain over his shoulders falls off; revealing a bare chest and hips. It’s alarming just how much that throws you off. The man is damn near perfect. Your eyes zone in on his abs for a brief second before you scold yourself. Didn’t you just say you weren't creepin’ on him? _Knock it off!_

The pup starts to kick her back legs when Hanzo finds her sweet spot. He looks up at you, “Did you want to take her?”

“Oh no; she’s an independent dog, she can go wherever she wants,” you duck out the door and call back, “Good night!”

You hear him say goodnight, and the way he says your name at the end makes him sound disappointed. Like maybe he had expected you to stick around for just a tad longer. Instead of running away, you could be sociable with your new roommate. Instead of acting like it might actually kill you. Here’s the thing: you’re both afraid of talking more than you have to. If just one of you could get up the courage to strike up a conversation, or sit down and hang out for a moment or two, then you could have the real chance of being friends. Instead of two people who avoid each other like you’re both made of cracked glass, incapable of understanding. Fools, the both of you.

The next morning, you are sitting on the couch eating refried beans right out of the can. Not really watching the TV, because you’re on some nonsense website scrolling through a whole lot of nothing. The dog comes running out from the hall past the couch, no doubt in pursuit of food and water in the kitchen. Hanzo appears shortly after, dressed in normal clothes, but he’s carrying a backpack and his bow. He nods at you and says good morning. Then he sees the can of beans and stops dead in his tracks.

“Are you eating dog food?”

You look down on the can. You’ve got to give it to him that certainly is what it looks like. “No? It’s refried beans. You really think I’ma sit here and eat dog food?”

He turns up his nose, “It might as well be.”

You stare him down, “There you go bein’ a snob again.”

Without any hesitation whats-so-ever, Hanzo walks towards you and grabs the can out of your hand. You watch him as he walks into the kitchen and tosses it into the trash.

“Excuse you! I was eating that! You prick!”

He ignores your tantrum while he’s looking through your pantry and fridge, making disapproving grunts as he goes, “Humf, I am not surprised.”

He throws his backpack on and tosses up his hood, but leaves the bow resting against the kitchen counter. He walks towards the door, “I’ll be back.”

“Um? So you’re just gonna throw out my food and leave?”

He turns around to face you before disappearing out the door, “I’ll be back. With food. Real food.”

He leaves you with your mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You're contemplating grabbing the can out of the trash. Not to start eating out of it again, but just to see the look on his face when you have it in your hands when he gets back. Instead of being petty, you choose to lay back on the couch. It’s early morning, so you search for some cartoons to watch. What you want is something that’s meant to educate four- to five-year-olds. You find exactly what you’re looking for and entertain yourself by pretending to be amazed when they teach you how to spell the word “tomorrow.”

Hanzo is back in an hour, with three cloth bags all hanging on one arm, and they are filled to the brim with groceries. He places them on the counter and starts to put them away without asking for any help. You slowly rise up off the couch and walk into the kitchen to take a seat at the counter on one of the stools. He pulls out a white styrofoam container and sets it down in front of you.

 _“Breakfast,”_ he says, as if you’ve never actually heard the word before.

You pop open the lid, letting it fall back on the counter. Inside you find two pieces of fluffy buttered toast, a couple slices of ham, eggs, and a variety of vegetables.

“Hey, Hanzo?”

“Hmm?”

“How’d you get all this?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Like, how did you pay for all this?”

“I have a stash.”

“A stash?”

“Yes, that is what I said.”

Hanzo continues to put away the food, and then realizes that you’re not eating. He grabs you a fork and places it down next to the container, “Eat.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

He sighs, “Don’t be ridiculous. You are letting me stay in your home for free. Consider this rent.”

That’s enough to get your guilt to stop writhing around in your stomach. It allows you to pick up the fork and start digging in. Once Hanzo is done putting everything away, he picks up his bow, says a brief goodbye, and leaves. You use every fiber of your being to fight to keep your mouth shut, to keep yourself from asking him questions.

Then two and a half weeks go by, and you really start to regret not speaking up. Something Hanzo said to you when he was begging you for help echo’s in your brain; _“I don’t do this often”_. It’s a five-word reminder that most of the time Hanzo went into dangerous missions alone. Tonight you’re having a hard time dealing with your own thoughts, so you decide you’re going to get drunk. You set your music on shuffle and start downing shots of your favorite hard liquor. Two hours later, thanks to a drunk brain and a random Christmas song that came on, you’re now dragging out your Christmas decorations.

Drunk you thinks this is a brilliant and fun idea. Perhaps it is fun, but it’s certainly is not brilliant with December still being several months away. But drunk you doesn't give a shit. Even though you have been living here alone for the past five years, you still like to decorate for the holidays. Normally, it’s something you plan out and take a whole day to do. The busywork and transformation always pleases you. You drag out the tub that has your fake Christmas tree, decorated with fake snow, and shove it into the living room.

You’re not being very careful with anything, and you’ll be lucky in the morning if nothing ends up broken. The pup trots at your heels in danger of getting stepped on, and you’re in danger of tripping over her. You’re being abnormally active and loud, and it’s making the dog nervous. One random Christmas song has turned into a whole playlist, and you’re singing along with every single one of them. As you’re removing the tree from the rubber tub, a large spider scurries out and crawls onto your arm. It causes you to freak out. Swatting and hitting your arm as you back away from the tub, you end up falling over the dog.

You land hard on your tail bone. You lay back on the ground and laugh your way through the pain. Suddenly, the music turns off. You look towards your sound system to find Hanzo, pup in one arm, his eyes wide with bewilderment staring at the mess of Christmas decorations you have strewn about. You may be shit faced, but that doesn't keep you from noticing the cut above his right eyebrow, as well as the bruising underneath his left eye.

You arm feels like it weighs fifty pounds, but your lift it up so you can dramatically present the tree from the floor, “Hello! It's Christmas!” You start to laugh even more, “Also… I fell…”

“I see that, and it is September.”

“Don’ be a grinch.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

Hell if you know, “Many.”

Hanzo looks around for the bottle. When he finds it he holds it by the neck and scrunches his face in disgust, “Foul.”

“Ur’ foul,” you say still flat on your back.

He smirks, the right corner of his lips curling up. He unscrews the bottle cap and takes three long gulps right out of the bottle. He roughly puts the bottle back down on the counter. His eyes are shut tight as he shakes his head and his shoulders out, “Absolutely foul.”

Even if you had been sober that still would have amazed you. Not only did Hanzo take impressive gulps of alcohol he did not like, but he also drank it straight from the bottle. That was not something you ever expected to him do, but damn are you glad you witnessed it, “Ya’ had a rough couple a weeks bud?”

He nods, “Would you like help getting back on your feet?”

You hold your arm up. It’s your way of saying, yes, please. He grabs your arm just underneath your elbow and gently pulls you up onto your feet. Even with the gentle lift your head still spins, so you hold onto his arm and close your eyes in order to get your equilibrium together. When you open your eyes, he’s gazing at you and studying the look on your face. You nearly start swooning. The alcohol in your blood is screaming; _God damn! Holy shit! Wow!_ He has got to be the most handsome human you've ever laid eyes on, let alone been this close to.

“Has the room stopped spinning?”

Like the true drunk idiot you are, you start to giggle before answering, “Na but its’ coo, I got it. I know how teh’ stand.”

He slowly lets your arm go. As he does he’s watching you for any signs that might indicate that you’ll topple right back over. When he’s satisfied that you won’t fall again, he puts his hands on his hips and surveys the room; “I know this is a silly question, but did you have a goal here?”

A silly question warrants a silly answer, “Christmas! Duh, pff.”

You wave him away, because you’ve officially got your sea legs back and new found determination to get shit done. Hanzo goes into the kitchen, “When was the last time you ate something?”

You’re fluffing out the tree, and it’s nearly ready for lights, “I dunno.”

That’s a lie; you know you haven’t eaten today. He seems to pick up on that, “Well I’m starving. I’ll make our food. Please be careful with those lights.”

“Don’ tell me how to live.”

“When you electrocute or strangle yourself, don’t ask me for help.”

By some miracle, you don’t end up doing either of those things. Despite getting the lights tangled up four different times after getting them untangled. The smell of bacon starts to waft through the house as Hanzo cooks. He’s turned back on the music, though he has chosen to ax the Christmas playlist. Next, comes the ornaments. They’re all assortments of nonsense you’ve found online through after Christmas sales.

Your placements aren’t strategic, and one side of the tree ends up with more than the other. You’ve got two more things that need to be added for you to be satisfied with yourself. One is the topper. You’ve got two options, and you want Hanzo to make the decision.

“Hey, Hann-zo, Ha-nzzo,” you pause to laugh. You think you’re pretty damn funny right now, “H-a-n-z-o.”

As he looks at you with a face somewhere between annoyed and amused. You lift up the tree toppers out of the box you had them stashed away in. You excitedly hold them up on either side of your head, with a big grin on your face.

“So which one is it gonna be? Creepy angel baby? Or, this angel lady with a coffee stained dress?”

His eyes are fixed on creepy angel baby, “That thing looks haunted.”

What you hear is a decision, “Alright! Creepy angel baby it is!”

You toss the other topper back into the bin and turn around to place the “chosen” topper into its rightful place. Hanzo rushes to your side to take the topper out of your hand. But he refuses to actually touch it. He takes it by the head with a kitchen dish rag saying, “Let me do that. You’ll end up knocking the whole tree over.”

Wearing a scowl the whole time, he gets the thing on top of the tree. As he walks back to the kitchen, he fans the dish rag out as if he is trying to shoo away curses and ghosts. You manage to get down onto the floor to get the tree shirt arranged in an acceptable manner. It’s the last thing that you feel you need to do. When you get back up, the motion makes your head spin. You realize that it’s time to sit the hell down.

You don’t need to say this out loud, but alas, you do so anyway, “I’ma sit.”

Hanzo chuckles, “Good. The food is almost done. I’ll bring it to you.”

You sit cross-legged, holding onto your ankles for dear life. Hanzo carefully places a plate in front of you. He tosses a few pieces and paper towel into your lap, and a glass of water behind your plate, before taking a seat himself. You are too drunk to remember to say thank you. Instead, you dig right in, almost oblivious to what you are putting into your mouth. The man knows what the right kind of drunk food is: a grilled chicken sandwich, with bacon, cheese, and a side of hot fries. He gave you a small side of ketchup that doesn't survive for long, but that doesn't keep you from finishing every single fry.

When you are finished, you lay back, placing a hand on your belly. Hanzo is nearly done with his food as well. He’s eyeing your handy work, while absentmindedly chewing on his last fry. You should keep your mouth shut. Unless you have something better to say, but you're not going to, “What happen’ to your face?”

“I got kicked.”

“In the face? Wow.”

“Yes.”

“You know, for a guy who got kicked in the face it don’ look that bad.”

The both of you drift off into a zone of memories and thoughts that you both wish you had the courage to talk about. Even with your blood primarily consisting of alcohol, and Hanzo having a person who will more than likely not remember a thing he says in the morning, you both still can’t get any meaningful sentences out. You throw an arm over your eyes. Partially because your eyes are starting to hurt, the other part being, because you think it might help if you can’t see him when you speak.

“This prolly’ isn’t proper roommate etiquette huh? Gettin’ drunk. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess.”

“It’s your home. You can do whatever you wish in it. With it. I have no right to say what you should or shouldn’t do.”

“Psh! You threw my food out a few weeks ago remember? You’ve got an opinion. I know ya’ do.”

“After the tone of our initial meeting, I am shocked you keep letting me back in here. I’m not concerned with sobriety or untimely Christmas decorations.”

You hum behind closed lips, “I thought you were tryna’ manipulate me.”

Hanzo looks back at you with a sorrowful look on his face. He gets it more than you could possibly know at the moment. He simply states, “I understand.”

Hanzo says your name quietly, testing to see if you're still awake. He’s nervous, but he needs to ask you something. You grunt in response.

“What exactly have you heard about me?”

Where do you even start? “Lot’s of things.”

He takes in a long, and deep breath.

“Yes, I’m sure. But what’s the worst one?”

It’s cruel that you’d choose now to uncover your face. “You’re fishing.”

His gaze is fixed on the tree, “Yes.”

There is one rumor that’s been sitting at the forefront of your brain ever since you met him. It’s one of those rumors that had always stayed consistent; at least one portion of the rumor had. The most important part being that he had killed his younger brother. The how, when, and why was almost always different. It’s not easy for you to say out loud, and the way his head bows tells you that’s what he was trying to figure out.

“He’s alive.”

This is too much for you to comprehend, “What? So, you didn't kill em'?”

He shakes his head, “I thought I did. I… was sure I did. But he showed up, at the castle. At least he says it’s him. It must be. But I am not sure. He’s… different.”

“Well, this is a good! Right? I mean. I’m sorry for presuming shit, but it seems like you’re not proud about his death. Not somethin’ you wanted teh’ do.”

“I am not. It wasn’t.”

You desperately want to sit up but your booze-ridden body will not allow it.

“Then it’s good! Hanzo! He’s alive!”

Hanzo sits in heavy silence. He’d like to share your enthusiasm. Wishes that it could be as simple as that. But something is keeping him from accepting it as pure good news.

You try your damnedest to figure out what it is, “You think he wants revenge?”

“No.”

“Then he’s forgiven you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

You slap the ground with both of your palms, “Then what in the fuck is the problem?”

His words come out curt and so quiet that you nearly don't hear them, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t have an answer.”

The pup has got a paw placed on his thigh. She’s wagging her tail desperately, hoping to get his attention. He’s not ignoring her, he's just not aware of her presence. Right now, you’re feeling like a jerk, and you actually feel bad about it for once.

“Hey, you know I’m an asshole sober right? An’ right now I’ma drunk asshole. It’s fine, teh’ not be able to explain feelings. A lot of the time I couldn’ tell you why the fuck I’m feelin’ a certain way. Ya’know what I think? I think you just need some time to process. ‘Jus good ol' fashioned time.”

“Yes, I hope you are right.”

The dog lets out a happy grumble as Hanzo scratches the top of her head. He doesn’t say anything else. You both stare at the tree, the lights becoming a massive blur for you. Your body feels like a pile of bricks. You fight the urge to pass out as long as you can, until eventually you can’t keep your eyes open anymore and drift off into unconsciousness.

 

*

 

When you wake up, it’s still dark out. You’re in your bed, and you’ve been swaddled. Your mouth is uncomfortably dry. You open and close your mouth over and over again trying to get some moistness back. On your bedside table is a glass of water, a glass of juice, and a couple of white pills. You groan, how embarrassing.

It’s to be decided, whether it’s a good or a bad thing that you remember absolutely everything. It takes you about ten minutes to realize that something cold is pressed up against your back. When you do, you wiggle trying to get yourself out of the blankets Hanzo encased you in. Your movements cause the cold thing to move, no, scurry across your bed. You freeze, _What the hell is that?_

You manage to get an arm out of the blankets and slowly use it to turn yourself over. Okay, you must still be asleep. Because there are two small, blue, and glowing dragons sitting on the other side of the bed. The longer you stare at them, the more you realize the glow is more of a fog or a mist. It’s something you’d see coming off of dry ice.

One of them is giving off this mist more than the other. The one with less has its head low to the bed, it’s butt in the air, and its tail wagging back and forth. The other is sitting up straight, tall and regal. Its tail wrapped neatly around its body, and it’s staring you down. You’re sure you’ve lost your mind. The only thing that’s going to convince you these things are real, is if you can manage to get yourself to touch one.

You extend a shaky hand towards them. The one with its butt in the air, eagerly leaps forward to greet it. You were by no means ready for it to do that. You scream and back up too far. You fall out of your bed and crash into a trash can that Hanzo had placed there for you. The dragon hops down onto the floor. While the other one takes a seat at the edge of the bed in the same position it was in before.

The one on the floor paces in front of you. It chirps at you. Chirps, like it’s a god damn cheetah in distress. It tries to come closer to you but stops just short of touching you. You’re still shaking, but you try it again. You extend your hand palm up and place it on the floor.

It throws its body onto your hand and wiggles back and forth. It’s cold, but not so cold that it hurts you. Its skin is vibrating. It almost reminds you of purring, but it’s not quite the same. You let the dragon writhe and shimmy against your hand while you check out the one that’s still on your bed. You’re sure that if you let that one do the same, it’d give you a nasty bit of frost bite. You’re relieved that it doesn’t seem interested in touching you.

Tears well up in your eyes and fall down your face. This is insane; you’ve gone crazy. You always knew this would happen, just not this early in your life. Your bedroom door opens up, and Hanzo rounds the corner of your bed.

You ask him instantly, “Do you see them?”

When he sees your face he frowns deeply, “Yes, I see them. Did they frighten you? I am so sorry.”

You let out a manic laugh, “Oh, thank god. What are you sorry for?”

He drops down to his knees, “They are… mine.”

Hanzo snaps his fingers once and points towards the bed. The dragon stops rubbing up against your hand and joins the other one. Not sitting quite as properly, but as properly as it can manage. You shake your head, “I don’t get it.”

He places his hands on his knees, “They are my dragons. I did not mean for them to be in here. Sometimes they do this. I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy.”

You ignore the last part of that sentence. You don’t at the moment understand what he means by that, “You keep saying that, but I still don't get it. What do you mean they're your dragons?”

“They're a part of my families heritage,” he nods up at them, “Spirit dragons.”

“Well, they are awfully cute.”

He laughs, “Right now. Yes, they are.”

The dog hops up onto the bed, and the more personable one of the two dragons tries to play with her. At first, she isn’t having it, but after a few playful jumps and chirps, the dog starts to chase it around in circles. You and Hanzo watch them as they jump and play. When the dragon tackles the dog, Hanzo sits up and pats the bed.

“Hey! You can play, but not roughly. She is an old pup. Be careful with her.”

You watch as the dragon actually nods in understanding. Then it goes back to hopping around the dog, carefully egging her on, getting her to chase it around. The serious one is still staring you down. You nod up at it, “I don’t think that one likes me.”

Quite the opposite actually. Hanzo’s cheeks grow a tad bit red, but you can’t really see it in the darkness of the room. He hesitates, “It… likes you. It’s just got a strange way of showing it.”

Now that you know they are real, and not just an elaborate figment of your imagination, you are far less distressed. You relax your posture and lean up against your bedside table. You now get to take in the fact that Hanzo is practically naked. Clad, only in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is loose, and it’s hanging perfectly around his face. The alcohol isn’t nearly as strong in your blood anymore, and yet, you are still starting to swoon. You’re feeling tension, and you’re so sure that you’re the only one, but you’re wrong.

You choose to try and break it, “On a scale of one to ten; how crazy do I look right now?”

“A ten; on the hungover scale, not the crazy one.”

He smiles, to assure you that he’s only teasing. That makes you laugh, and it’s a good hardy chuckle. You rub your temples, trying to hold back a headache you can feel coming on.

“You should drink some water and go back to sleep.”

You’ll drink the water but sleep probably isn't going to happen. You don't say so. Instead, you just nod in agreement. Hanzo gets up and offers his hands to you. You take them, and he helps get you off the ground for the third time tonight. Hanzo pats the bed again, “Come on you two, let's leave her be.”

He was only speaking to the dragons, but the dog follows as if it was a command for her as well. He’s got a trail of three little creatures as he’s leaving your room.

“Hanzo.” Your heart races, you’re not sure what possessed you to say his name. You don't really have anything to say, and yet you do.

He stops and turns to look at you. The rambunctious dragon crawls up his leg, and settles itself around his neck. You must look scared because he asks, “Is something the matter?”

“Are you leaving again tomorrow?”

He shakes his head, “No. I am not sure what my next plan of action is.”

You take in a deep breath and place your hands on your hips, “I… well… um…”

The dragon leaps from Hanzo’s shoulder, and in a few hops it’s back onto the bed. You freeze as it scurries up your arm. Tiny little nails prick at your skin, and it settles around your neck. Its skin is still humming, and it nuzzles its chin into the crook of your neck. Hanzo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and closes his eyes, “Silly dragon.”

You go ahead and spit it out, “I know you can handle yourself. And asking me for help wasn’t something you do often. I just; all I am trying to say is if you need my help, or hell, if you just want it. You’ve got it. You don’t have to go at it alone.”

Hanzo is confused and oblivious. He doesn't understand where this is coming from, and it takes him a moment to really process what you said. The dragon around your neck is nearly trembling now, so much so it threatens to fall right off.

“Why are you saying this?”

You shrug, “We’re friends, right? Friends help each other out. It’s just how I feel.”

He nods, “Yes. We are friends, but you’re going to regret extending that offer.”

“I will not.”

It's good that you've already made the decision to bring yourself out of retirement. Because tomorrow someone will be knocking on your door demanding that you do so. You're still not going to be happy about it, but at least you're not hell bent on being a hermit anymore. 


	5. Birds Of A Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consider this chapter the calm before the storm, enjoy! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [ Demial ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial/pseuds/Demial) for beta reading!

The rowdy dragon stays with you all night. You’re terribly hung over, so you are content to just lay in your bed gazing at the thing. Anytime you move so much as a muscle, the dragon will go from asleep to overtly awake within seconds. It stares at you admiringly, wagging its tale, and hitting it against the bed loudly. Sometimes it’ll chirp at you for seemingly for no reason. Though, you’re sure it’s got motivations behind talking to you.

Before Hanzo had gone back to bed, he had informed you the creature didn’t have a name. You wanted to ask him why, but didn’t want to pry. You both had had enough of talking for the night. Not that it really mattered, but your curiosity is always easily peaked, and you're sure there is a reason. You take it upon yourself to name the creature. You’ve been laying there with it for hours now, getting attached, so you can’t help but give it a name.

You start spouting off ideas, taking time in between each one to gauge the creature's reaction. It doesn’t seem to be interested in any of the options. Maybe it doesn't have as high of an understanding as you had initially thought. But then you say, “Aoi” and the dragon perks up and chirps at you several times.

You have to laugh, “Aoi? Really, you like that one?”

It chirps some more.

You groan, “But that’s so uncreative. Aoi literally means blue, and you’re blue! You wanna be called blue?”

_Chirp! Chirp!_

“Fine! Aoi, it is then. I guess there’s nothing wrong with a simple name, but if Hanzo judges me I’m blaming you.”

When the headache you’ve been trying to will away for the past hour finally leaves, you get up, take a shower, and then head for the living room. You brace yourself, because you know you’ve made a giant mess. But there is no mess. Hanzo cleaned it all up. He put every bin and box back into your garage. The lack of clutter and chaos you had strewn about actually makes you feel terrible. You’re not used to having someone clean up after you. Aoi is prowling along the floor, eyes fixed on the glowing lights of the tree.

You softly clap your hands, “Hey! I see you! Don’t you dare!”

Aoi scurries underneath the tree, curls up into a ball, and stares you down as if to say, “I do what I want.” As the early morning passes, the sun rises as it always does. You’re sitting watching children shows as you always do. This time when Hanzo rises, he’s barefooted and still nearly naked. For once he’s not dressed and ready to leave immediately. He goes into the kitchen to get him and you a bowl of cereal each. He sits down next to you and wordlessly places the bowl in your lap.

He sits back and squints at the TV, “What is this?”

“Cartoons.”

“Yes, but what is this one about?”

“Uh, well, today we are learning about the letter, F!”

He nods and gets a big spoon full of cereal ready, “Interesting.”

You stifle a laugh, “We can watch something else.”

He shakes his head, “No, no. I want to watch this.”

You don’t quite believe him, but you leave the channel as is. You look over your shoulder to see what Aoi is up to, but the dragon isn’t under the tree anymore. You do a quick survey of the room. You still don’t see where it went, so you ask Hanzo, “Hey Han? You know where-“

You stop abruptly. Your cheeks flush red, and you put on an embarrassed smile.

“Wow, uh, I don’t know why I just called you Han.”

Hanzo has a smug smile on his face. He loves that you’ve given him a nickname. After living most of his life with rigid formality, the informality of it feels pleasant. He doesn't look at you. Instead, he pretends to be engrossed in the show.

“You may call me that if you wish.”

“Oh, I can, huh?” You pause just so can dramatically purse your lips, “Anyway, I was trying to ask you if you know where your silly dragon went.”

He looks at you and cocks his head to the side, “Oh, you mean Aoi? I had them retire.”

Your eyes widen, “H-how did you-“

“The dragons are an extension of myself. I can understand them when they speak. Aoi told me its new name.”

You didn't mean to get caught this fast. Seeing as you are enjoying getting along with the man, you're hoping he's not upset, “Are you mad? Was I out of line?”

Hanzo’s expression goes from, “got you!” to an expression somewhere between gratitude and lament.

“Not at all,” He pauses, “There was a rule that my father implemented at an early age. I was not allowed to give them names. While he has been gone a long time, it is a rule that still sticks with me. I am glad you broke it.”

Your mouth drops open, “Wow! I’m a dick!”

Hanzo is so confused, “No?”

“No, I am! You go your whole damn life not being able to name your own dragons, and I just take it upon myself to do so? That’s a dick move, I should’ve asked permission first.”

“Well, I do have two.”

You nod, “You sure do.”

“I will name that one, so do not be a dick and name it for me.” Hanzo puts emphases on the word dick and smiles. He seems to know that throwing your own lingo back at you makes you feel better.

You laugh, “You can always change the name if you wanna!”

He shakes his head, “I can not. The dragon likes it far too much.”

You pout, sit back, and start eating your cereal. Hanzo pats your leg, “It will be okay.”

There's an assertive succession of knocks on the door. You scrunch up your nose at the sound. Who could possibly be at your door at this hour? Hanzo gets up stating that he should get dressed, and you agree with him in a snarky way. Though, you both know he’s just getting out of sight, because the wrong person seeing him on your couch could cause problems for you and for him.

You open up the door, and your breath catches in your throat. A woman is standing in front of you. One that you had known for a very brief time a long time ago. Before you had your bots. Before life had truly begun to be cruel to you. Even with her aging, you still recognize her as Ana Amari. You are going to try and play like you don’t know who she is, but there is no fooling this woman.

She crosses her arms and says your full name, “May I come in?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

You might have the tiniest bit of a grudge against her. You take note of the eye patch over her left eye. The last time you had seen her she didn’t have that.

“You should really let me in. I need to talk with you and Hanzo. I have a proposition for the both of you. Is he still here?”

You are unaware of what her intentions are. So you lie and lie some more, “Do I know you? Who the hell is Hanzo?”

Ana frowns and shakes her finger at you, “Tsk, tsk. Do not lie to me, child.”

You frown and narrow your eyes, “How do you know that?”

She shrugs, “How does one know anything?”

You don’t say a word, and you don’t budge. This isn’t something you’ve felt in a very long time; protective. It’s an emotion that's been lying dormant in your body for years, and it’s coming back with a passion.

Ana raises her hands up, “I’m not here to cause any harm to either of you. As I’ve said, I just want to talk, and I’d appreciate it if you would put your daggers away.”

You step out of the way and wordlessly let her into your house. You were going to go and get Hanzo. But you don't need to, since he’s already back in the living room, and fully clothed. Ana walks right up to him and extends her hand, “Hanzo Shimada? I am Ana Amari.”

He shakes her hand and nods.

“Your brother requested that I try and recruit you. However, I wasn’t aware that you were boarding with a past applicant.”

She looks back at you, confirming that she remembers you, “I’d like to try and recruit you as well. Right now we could use all the help we can get.”

You don’t say anything. If you start going off now you’ll never stop. You’ll just end up baring your whole past right here, right now. You’ve fought yourself over these feelings a lot. You know it’s not Overwatch’s fault that you ended up in the situation that you did. But that doesn't change the fact, that right now, you’re really feeling quite the bite towards the organization.

The harsh tension in the room is palpable. Hanzo can see that you are not going to speak up, so he takes up the responsibly of asking questions.

“Genji? He asked you to talk to me?”

Ana nods, “Yes, he did. I am doing him a favor, but really it’s something that needed to be done either way.”

Anxiety collects in his eyes. He looks away, knowing that it’s there, “What do you mean by ‘recruit’?”

“We are getting Overwatch back into motion. There is a new war and new enemies on the horizon. We need all of the help that we can get. We’ve got our hands on a brand new facility, with plenty of room. You both are welcome to join.”

You are being hasty and don’t really mean what you say, “I think I’ll pass. Thanks for stopping by, but no sale.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow at you, “I think we need some time to think about it.”

You nearly snap at him, that he doesn't get to speak for you. A deep breath keeps that from happening. He means well, and he doesn't deserve that kind of lashing. Ana takes a few steps closer to you, “I know my tone makes this sound like a choice, but I really can’t take no for an answer.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to.”

“Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?”

You shake your head, “No, I don't think I would.”

The look Ana gives you is infuriating. It’s the look a mother gives a child when they are being unreasonable. It’s pitiful and sad. She knows your feelings are misguided. She turns back to Hanzo, reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a comm. She hands it over to him, “If you decide you’d like to sign up, use that to get a hold of me. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

She walks towards the door but pauses to try one last time to talk to you, “I know I’ve pissed off my fair share of people. I am no saint. I’m not sure if you're mad at me or just Overwatch as a whole, but I do hope that you’ll change your mind, and that we’ll get a chance to talk this out.”

Ana looks back at Hanzo one more time, as if to say, _you better talk to her_! She lets herself out. She doesn't slam the door, but the door shutting still sounds irritatingly loud to you. You nearly run out the door as well. Not because you want to stop Ana, but because you want to get away from Hanzo and any questions he might have for you.

He carefully says your name, “I think it is in my best interest that I join. I am running out of tasks that I can finish myself. Even with you, there are things that are way beyond what we could handle. If I join, and I prove my worth, maybe they would consider helping me in the future.”

The biggest and most important motivation for him is Genji, but he doesn't say it so neither do you. Either way, you actually agree, “Yeah. You’re right. You should defiantly sign up.”

He frowns, “You should join too.”

You had been set to follow Hanzo just about anywhere. But now that an organization is in the mix, you’re feeling weary about it. It’s much easier to gauge an individual's intentions rather than the intentions of an organization like Overwatch.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You need air. So you quickly walk past Hanzo, who couldn’t be more disappointed with you right now, to get outside onto your balcony. The bots are starting to put in their unneeded input. They are humming under your skin, vibrating in your shoulders, and poking at your stomach. All things they love to do to you when they don’t agree with your decisions. Of course, the bots would want you to go; Overwatch is ripe with promises of action.

Hanzo stands in the doorway of your balcony, arms crossed over his chest.

“I did not take you for a coward.”

Oh, you’re angry now, “You should really contact Ana.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Your blood is hot with stress and vexation. Your foot taps as you grip the railing and keep your eyes shut tight. Internally, you’re fighting with the bots, and in your reality, you’re fighting with Hanzo.

“You need to leave.”

For a moment he nearly does leave. Already aware and prepared for you to go back on your promises. Even if you had just given them. He’s had to deal with most situations alone for a large portion of his life, and he’s prepared to continue to do so. But he stops, because he doesn't want to deal by himself anymore. Doesn't want to lose the first friend he’s had in a decade. It’s selfish really. He just wants your company, because he’s scared, too.

He repeats the question a little softer this time, “What are you afraid of?”

You go ahead and let it all out. It’s so typical of you, but you want to be convinced, “I’m scared, because once upon a time I let an organization that posed, looked, and sounded a whole hell of a lot like Overwatch torture me into a living weapon. Only so I could end up killing innocent people for them. I can’t let that happen again. I won’t let it happen again.”

The bots run a chill down your spine. They know. They remember. After all, they were there.

“Are you speaking of Talon?” He’s dealt with them once or twice in his travels.

“Yes, but they ran under a different name at the time. Luring young kids in. Promising them they’d be doing good in the world, with their help. A lot of ignorant and desperate people willingly lost their lives under their manipulation.”

Hanzo walks over and stands next to you. He grips the railing, his hand is so close to yours.

“You are older and wiser now. Trust your gut, and speak up when you feel something is not right. I know you have no problem doing that. What you should not do is let your fear rule your actions. Agreeing to join is not a sentence condemning you to do whatever they ask of you.”

“How do you trust your own emotions after everything you’ve been though? My emotions are what kept me there, because I really thought they cared about me. The people who shoved me into a tank and shot fire directly into my veins for months. The people I watched do the same to others who didn't survive. And when they died, they didn't give them funerals. I really thought those people cared about me.”

“I do not know what that is.”

“I’m sorry?”

He raises both of his eyebrows, “Emotions. What is that?”

“Are you making a fucking joke right now? You’d better be or you need to stop.”

He bites his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. He’s being a shit. Not because he’s being insensitive, but because he is trying to make you feel better about opening up.

“What I am trying to say is that I try not to feel many. Emotions. So I do not have to worry about whether they need to be trusted or not.”

You shake your head, “Boy, do we have the healthiest of coping mechanisms or what?”

“Have you ever considered that those people did care about you? Someone can love you and still hurt you. I know this for certain. My brother could tell you the same.”

He pauses for a long time. He’d like to give you something you can understand or possibly relate to. A better example of what he is trying to convey, but it’s hard for him to put blame on anyone but himself.

“The elders of the clan were there when both I and Genji were born. They helped raise us. Taught me most of the things I know. Helped us learn how to control our dragons. They were involved in nearly every facet of our lives. They loved us and yet…”

Hanzo’s voice trails off has his mind wanders into vivid memories of distant times. You’re exhausted with talking, and you don’t want him to have to say anymore. You understand and completely see where he is coming from. You are not quite brave enough to hold his hand, so you lean to the side so that your hand “accidentally” brushes against his. The feeling of your hand helps pull his consciousness from the memories it was dwelling on.

You gulp because he stares right at your hand. He very slowly nudges his hand under yours, and now your hand rests lightly on top of his. It’s pleasant and harmless human contact that you’ve been starved of for more than just the five years you’ve been here. Hanzo casually looks off into the distance, as if this is natural and not a big deal; after all, it is natural. The ocean is quiet today and the sky is clear and blue. Loud sea birds fly effortlessly through the sky in search of unsuspecting fish in the sea below.

“This is a lovely view.”

You smile, “Yeah, I’m going to miss this. You think this ‘brand new facility’ has views like this?”

“If it does not, then we will have to find some.”

 

*

 

Hanzo did the honors of telling Ana that both, you and him, will be accepting the invitation into Overwatch. You don’t get to hear Ana question why you'd need a week to get ready to go, because Hanzo is relaying all the information. It’s a good thing, because you’d do nothing but give her attitude about it.

“I gotta find a damn dog sitter! And one who is going to be willing to watch her indefinitely.”

Hanzo gives Ana a simplified, neutral toned, five-word sentence. He comes back with, “She says to bring the dog.”

You throw your hands up, “Fine! I’ll bring the dog. When would she like us to be ready?”

“Tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, “No, two days. So that means tonight and tomorrow night!”

It's a done deal. The next day and a half are filled with anxiety. You’re not used to not knowing what your future has in store for you. One could argue that you never really did. It doesn't help that you can’t stop thinking about the moment you and Hanzo shared on your balcony, and you wonder if Hanzo is thinking about it as much as you are. When night time comes around the next day, you are physically and emotionally exhausted. Your body and mind are begging for sleep, so you go ahead and give sleep a good old try.

There is more than one reason why you don't sleep. One, being the simple explanation of insomnia, and two, being that when you fall asleep without the influence of alcohol, you often have night terrors. Tonight, unfortunately, is not an exception to that rule.

 

*  
_There’s nothing here for you. You shouldn’t be here and yet, you have to be here, because your legs won’t allow you to move. Impossibly tall stone walls surround you; they reach higher than you can humanly see. You need to get out of here, but are well aware that you never will. A presence lingers behind you. It gives off an aura of malice, hate, imminent threat, and it’s wishing you a painful death. The walls vibrate as a roar sounds off from the sky._

_A green light cascades down, and it reaches down to wash over you. Your skin starts to feel impossibly hot, too hot for any human to handle, and you can swear you are on fire. You can’t look down at yourself, but you are still aware that your skin is falling off. It’s dripping onto the floor as if you are a melting candle._

_The scene changes and you’re now standing in a room full of faceless people, wearing elegant gowns, and suits. They are standing unnaturally still, it’s extremely unnerving, and for good reason. If you move, even a single inch, they will tear you apart._

_Thick black smoke starts to creep its way into the room. It keeps low to the ground. It circles around you, just short of touching. It climbs higher and higher until it’s above your head. Your heart is racing, because you can hear it laughing. It’s a deep-seated and evil laugh. A thick tendril separates itself from the mass and snakes its way around your neck. Panic hits you in your chest like a brick, and you start to scream for help._

_That’s a mistake, because they know you’re here now. Foreign arms start to push through the thick smoke. They grab at your limbs and start to tug and pull. They rip an arm from you and then a leg. You fall to the ground still screaming and begging, but to no avail, that they stop._

_Two strong hands take a hold of your shoulders. These ones are different from the other hands. They aren’t trying to hurt you and are not trying to take something. You hear your name and try to grasp onto it. Try to see where it’s coming from. But the more you try and search for the source of your name, the more the laughing gets louder. It makes it impossible for you to focus._

_The strong hands shake you. A deep familiar voice breaks through all of the laughter, and you snap awake._

*

Hot tears stream down your face, and for a moment you are very disorientated. It seems like the black smoke is still surrounding you, but in reality, it's just the darkness and the blurriness of your tears playing tricks on you. Hanzo says your name until you look at him. His hands are gripping your shoulders, and you absentmindedly cling to his biceps. You are having a panic attack. Your chest hurts and you can’t get your breathing under control.

Hanzo pushes your hair out of your face, “It was just a dream. You are safe.”

All you can do is nod. You are aware, but still terribly afraid. Your nightmares always feel real and vivid. They stick with you a long time after you’ve woken up. You’re desperately trying to stop sobbing, but the more you try the worse it gets. Hanzo pulls you into his lap and cradles you in his arms.

He gently holds your face against his chest, and you can hear his heart beat. His skin is a comforting combination of soft and firm, with a low pleasant heat that’s different from anything warm that you’ve ever felt. He brushes his hand along your head until you stop crying. The pup growls and barks at the two of you. She is not happy about your current state and is used to being your source of comfort whenever this happens to you.

Hanzo says playfully, “Hush, she is going to be fine.”

The dog grumbles in response before laying down on the bed, but doesn't go to sleep. She’s keeping an eye on you. You look up at Hanzo, and you have to smile, because he’s got such a beautiful face from every angle. It hurts how much you want to be here, like this, with him. He meets your gaze, “Are you feeling better?”

You think about lying, because you don’t want him to let you go. But that doesn't feel right, so you nod. To your pleasant surprise, Hanzo doesn't let you go, and you don’t make any motion that would indicate that you want him to. You are both enjoying the contact, and are becoming painfully aware of how starved of affection you both are. The both of you need this. You close your eyes and focus on his heart beat. It’s steady and strong, even if it’s beating a little fast.

Hanzo moves, but only so he can lay you down with him. His legs are wrapped around your hips, and his arms around your waist. The two of you are mind-numbingly close right now.

You can feel the vibration of his voice in his chest, “Do you mind this?”

You chuckle, “God, no. Not at all.”

He hums, “Good.”

You look up at him again, and when you do your nose unintentionally brushes against his. It only takes a slight incline of your head for you to kiss him. You didn’t have to fight yourself about it, and there was no internal dialogue. It just felt right, so you did it. He returns the kiss by leaning into it. It’s brief, but perfect. You’re both not ready for more than that.

You rest your head back against his chest, and close your eyes, unafraid to fall back asleep. The dog is pleased to have the both of you together, so she tosses over onto her side and knocks out cold at your feet. This time your slumber is deep and dreamless. Hanzo's sleep is sound as well, but he dreams. He dreams of a pleasant and hopeful future, of new friends and new beginnings. Two people's dreams at completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Both foretelling your futures; one persons being much closer to the present than the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)


	6. Watchpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Hanzo adjust to life at Overwatch HQ, with a few hiccups here and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know with the last chapter I said that was the calm before the storm, but then my head went into a completely different direction with it. Oops. Anyway hope y'all enjoy (´ε｀ )♡
> 
> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

Standing in the hallway of Overwatch HQ has you feeling small and overwhelmed. You didn't have a carrier for the dog, so you’re standing there, clutching the poor thing to your chest. You’ve been making a tremendous effort to look tough. And you’re just now realizing that’s the stupidest thing for you to be throwing your energy into. Considering you're nearly suffocating a small dog to death with your nervous grip.

The welcome into Overwatch isn’t exactly warm or inviting. At least the dog settles in well. She is allowed to roam wherever she’d like and does so. Everyone loves her and accepts her as the Watchpoint pet.

Ana lays out all the rules and what is expected of each of you. She goes on and on about fitness and how the two of you will need to go through training to make sure you’re ready for missions. She says you’ll need to get rid of the “rust” before she trusts you to not die on the field the first time she sends you out. She also states that weapons are not to be taken out into common areas. Unless the facility is under attack, of course.

It’s no surprise that Hanzo is in peak physical condition and passes all of Ana’s tests with flying colors. You, on the other hand, are an entirely different story.

“You are going to have to work on your cardio and agility.”

You groan, “Come on, my cardio isn’t that bad.”

“That bad, is far from good enough.”

Cardio is only fun if you’ve got a destination and a good reason behind it. Every time you start to give Ana a problem with something, Hanzo is standing behind her pleading you to back down with his eyes.

“Alright fine, so how many miles would you recommend?”

She says flatly, “Six. To start.”

“A day!”

“Yes, a day.”

“Is there anything else I can do for cardio that will meet your expectations?”

A boisterous, and light-hearted voice sounds off from behind you, “Did somebody say cardio!”

You look behind you to see a gentleman with a winning smile, and charming good looks. He claps his hands together before offering you one of them to shake, “Hi! It’s nice to meet ya! I’m Lucio!”

Lucio offers Hanzo the same hand. After introductions are out of the way, Ana sighs and crosses her arms across her chest. “No doubt, Lucio, is going to try and sell you on joining his dance class.”

Lucio scoffs, “Now, now! It’s not selling if it’s free!”

“Yes, you are right.” Then she pauses having had a light bulb moment, “It would actually be ideal. Yes, I think his class would be perfect for you.”

You are perturbed. You don’t want to run six miles, and nor do you want to take a dance class. No matter how fun and charming the instructor seems to be. You match Ana’s stance with a hand on the hip, “And why is that?”

Ana is really good at ignoring your attitude, “Dance will help you with both of your biggest weaknesses, cardio, and agility. Two birds, one stone.”

Lucio talks a lot with his hands, and it commands attention without being abrasive. “Come on! I swear, it’s tons of fun! You never know if you don’t like it 'til you try it huh?”

Lucio clasps his hands together in a begging gesture and gives you a playful pout. _God,_ you can’t even imagine what it’s like to be that outward and pleasant. You instantly like him, and it’s rare for you to instantaneously like someone. How could you say no? And what hurt would it cause to try, “Alright fine.”

Lucio then whips his attention to Hanzo to see if he can get one more sign up. Hanzo holds both his hands up and fervently shakes his head; it’s going to be a hard no from him.

That is how you find yourself the next morning in the gym. In a secluded room in the back, with thinly padded floors and mirrors lining the walls. Here is where you meet another agent named Hana. A petite, and equally as boisterous woman, with a bit of bite. It turns out that this “class” thus far has consisted of just Lucio and Hana. This you are actually thankful for, because you were feeling anxious about having to meet several other agents at the same time. This is far less stressful.

You had no expectations coming into this and yet, you are still shocked. The music is fun, and the dancing hits hard and fast. You end up being impressed with yourself. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep up, or match their moves. But you do fairly well for your first time and feel really good because of it. When you think the class is done, Lucio informs you that they’ve got one last thing they always do at the end to “cool down”.

“Alright, sure, what is it?”

Hana looks at Lucio with a mischievous look and rubs her hands together like she’s a cartoon villain, “We gotta do the routine with the chairs!”

You watch in dramatic horror as Lucio and Hana take three chairs from the rooms back wall and position them in a line.

“Uh, what are we doing?”

Hana shimmies her shoulders at you, “It’s sultry dance time!”

Your eyes widen, “Um no. I think I’m good.”

Hana stomps her foot, “You will do the sexy dance or the class will never end.”

“What kind of cryptic nonsense was that?”

Lucio comes in with the middle ground, “Come on! It’s lots of fun and once we get the music going, and you’ve got the moves down, I swear you're gonna feel awesome!”

You’ve already got a blush on your face, but you give in. You really want to be friends with these two, and if you leave now, you’d be putting a hindrance on that. So you watch them, with an increasing blush the farther they get into the dance. The chairs are only there for the very beginning of the dance. After the first few moves, they dramatically get pushed back to make room for the floor moves. You fall to your knees and flip over onto your back, your legs still tucked underneath you.

You watch as Lucio and Hana both effortlessly lift their hips high up into the air, and you can't help but start giggling.

“I can’t do it.” You say between giggles.

Lucio hits the mat several times, “Get your hips up!”

Hana colorfully adds in, “You have to thrust like you’re really giving it to somebody!”

You are full on belly laughing now, “Hana please use a nicer example! I can’t deal with that one!”

Hana shakes her head. Hips still high in the air, “Thrust them hips! Give it to em, damn it!”

Lucio is crying with laughter as well, “She’s gonna axe us to the side and take the six miles of running in a sec.”

Tears are running down your face, “I’m gonna break something!”

Lucio scoffs, “You’re not ninety years old! No excuses! Do it!”

When you finally do get your hips up, they both sarcastically clap for your success. The rest of the moves are still lewd and way beyond your comfort zone, but you get them down. When Lucio can finally add the music into the mix is when it all finally clicks. It still takes a lot for you not to laugh your way through it, but you hit every step, every drop, and lift. Lucio and Hana are goddamn professionals, keeping faces on the whole entire time that say, _Yeah I know you want me._ You admire them and wonder what it must be like to have that kind of confidence.

When you walk out of the room, heading for the showers, you find Hanzo leaning against the wall just outside the door.

“Hey, how long you been there?”

“Give or take about ten minutes.”

You squint at him, “Did you see any of that?”

He smiles meekly, “A very little amount.”

You feel the embarrassment flood your cheeks stronger than it ever did during the dance, “That's too much.”

Hanzo was waiting for you, because he wanted to see if you’d come to practice range with him. And of course, you will. That’s how it is for the next month and a half. You do most things together. You practice with your guns, while he hones his archery. You take the tactical classes Ana had put together herself in the library. You eat together, and meet new people together. You’d like to get around to meeting everybody, but apparently, several agents are away on a mission. One of them being Genji.

You’re not one hundred percent sure if Hanzo is upset or relieved by that. If you had to put money down, it would be on relieved. There are times when Hanzo is nowhere to be found, and that is usually when you get to chatting with people. Now, you’re not exactly a social butterfly, but if people put in most of the effort with the talking, you find it easy to either respond, or just listen.

Hanzo isn’t having any of it. He slips away so quietly that often you don’t notice him go. When you guys make your way into the mess hall, Hanzo always chooses the table farthest away from the group. You could sit with the others, but you’d never leave Hanzo to eat alone. Out of all the friendly greetings, there is one agent who’s greeting wasn’t so friendly. And it’s this agent who is really starting to grind your gears. His name is Jesse McCree.

Right from the get go the vibe wasn’t good with him. The meeting was brief and cold. The two of you had only ever spoken to him once. Ever since your meeting, he avoids all eye contact with you and doesn't like being in the same room as the two of you. Except of course, when it comes to the mess hall. It seems that the room is big enough for him to deem worthy enough to be in with the two of you.

However, there is this thing he’s been doing lately. Every time he walks in the room, he’s got to stare the two of you down. With his cowboy hat low and a scowl on his face, he throws daggers your way. Hanzo doesn’t notice, because his back is always turned to McCree. There is only so much you can take before you start to feel petty and protective. So you’ve started returning the stare down. You’re only able to get away with this for a couple of days before Hanzo catches you.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly choke on the food you have in your mouth, “I- what? Hmm?”

“Don’t play dumb. What’s that look? What are you up to?”

You shrug, because you like to give him a hard time. Also, because you don’t want to tell him. It’d just cause him stress, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He rolls his eyes and takes a brief look behind him, “Who over there made you angry?”

You place a melodramatic hand to your chest, “I am offended. I am a very cool headed person. Nothing ever makes me angry.”

You almost make yourself laugh. You fight it back, because he is done with you. You can see it all over his face.

You sigh, “Relax. It’s nothing, seriously. It’s—“

Childish is the right word for the situation, but for some reason, the word is escaping you right now. Hanzo pouts and goes back to eating his food, “I’m not going to beg you to tell me.”

You pout too, “You’re not gonna like it.”

“I already don’t like this.”

Fine. If he insists so much on knowing, then you’re just going to have to tell him. So you do, and he says, “Be better than that.”

“Better than what?”

“Than stooping to his level. Stop. Do not do that anymore, please.”

Hanzo has a sinking feeling he knows exactly why McCree doesn't like you guys. More so him, and he just doesn't like you by association. This gives him a terrible pang of anxiety. He feels guilty that someone would dislike you, because of his past wrong doings. It’s the only logical reason behind McCree’s scorn. Every Overwatch agent probably feels this way, and some are better at hiding it than others. Or at least, this is what Hanzo thinks.

You agree to knock it off. It’s for the best, and hopefully, it will release some of the bad tension. But you’re not going to make it easy for Hanzo; that just wouldn’t be in your nature. The next day the two of you are sitting in the same spot, and McCree walks in. He stares you down, and to keep yourself from glaring back, you choose to stare obnoxiously at Hanzo instead. Hanzo, who you’ve found eats a tremendous amount. Is focused on his food and takes a full minute to realize that you are being annoying.

Hanzo sighs, “Yes?”

“I’m not staring at him.” You pause. The smile on your face isn't sweet, but rather mischievous, “I’m staring at you instead.”

For some reason, Hanzo can’t just let himself enjoy your nonsense. He always has to fight with himself, try to put up a front. Like he needs to be serious and can’t enjoy the lighter sides of things. Or rather, doesn't deserve to.

He has to fight to keep from grinning, “Stop.”

You don’t stop. You continue to stare at his face. Finding yourself admiring the glowing skin. Despite the under eye circles, indicating that he hasn't been sleeping well. Along with his sculpted angles.

“You ever notice how many angles your face has? You have all of them, you’re hoggin’ them all. That’s not fair, give some of them up. What do you need that many angles for? Be generous.”

You're in a mood, full of pent up energy, and no doubt from all the workouts you've been getting. Because of this, you could go on, and on. And you do, changing different variations of your sentences and words. Hanzo is bright red in the cheeks and has a tight-lipped grin. He’s had the same mouth full of food since you started and only just now was able to get it down.

“Be quiet, please.”

You're on a roll, a little animated and loud, “I mean, you’re just so fucking handsome. It’s inappropriate how good looking you are. It’s offensive. I want an explanation. Han? What the fuck is with your face and how it looks. Te—“

At some point during your rant, your hands had ended up back on the table. Without any warning, Hanzo grabs them both, and it instantly shuts you up. Now you are the one with a tight-lipped smile and red cheeks. It's nice, the way his hands feel tightly wrapped around yours, with that warmth that you crave. You can feel some of the agents at the other table starting to stare. He's holding on for a reason. Letting you know how the embarrassment feels. This isn't exactly PDA, but it's still giving you a wild case of the willies.

“Are you gonna let go or what?”

“Are you going to be quiet?”

You nod and try to take your hands back, but he won’t let you have them. Not that you tried very hard. Or that his grip is now any more than featherweight. You could have them back if you really wanted. Hanzo slowly takes his hands away. All the while, keeping an eye on your face to see if you're going to start up again.

“Have some restraint,” is his last comment he makes to you before going back to eating his fifth dinner roll, intent on eating six.

Days at Overwatch are currently ridged with routine. For right now it’s not something you mind. It makes you feel more comfortable, because you know what your day has in store for you. You’ve actually found yourself dreading the day Ana approaches you with a mission. So you find yourself back in the mess hall, at the same table, with Hanzo, and you're annoying him yet again by staring. But today is about to be different, and not for good reason.

“Once upon a time you chided me for staring. I believe the word you used was, rude.”

“How do you get your eyebrows to be that perfect? You literally wake up with them looking like that. I’ve seen it. Is it the dragons? Do they do your eyebrows in the middle of REM sleep?”

Hanzo sighs, and hangs his head, burying his face in his hands. If you didn’t know any better, with the way his shoulders are shaking, you would think he was crying. Maybe he is. Neither of you see McCree approaching. Hanzo is too occupied trying to keep his cool, and you’re too engrossed in watching him. He takes a seat next to you, keeping a safe distance and not saying a word.

You notice him first, and your gut reaction is to stare at him with a disgusted face. McCree waits for Hanzo’s attention before going off on a rant.

“Ya’ know the least you could do is answer your damn brother back. I think a simple answer would be a real nice start. All he’s trying to do is talk to ya’. Sending ya’ messages and tryna’ talk to you via the damn comm. He shouldn’t have teh’ beg you teh’ talk to him. That should be the other way around. You must be a fuckin’ chicken shit. You don’t even gotta talk to em’ face to face, and you can’t manage that much? I think it’s the least you could do, considering, Genji is tryin’ and you should be too.”

The whole entire time McCree is tearing into him. You’re wide-eyed, and desperately looking at Hanzo, begging him, _Say something! Defend yourself!_ McCree is done, so he gets up and leaves. You sit for as long as you can manage, waiting for Hanzo to say something. When he doesn't, you get up and slid across the top of the table to get after McCree faster. Hanzo’s simple sentence, “Have some restraint,” comes to the forefront of your mind, and you push it away, with a _fuck that._ If he’s not going to defend himself, then you’re going to have to do it.

Your blood is pumping so fast and hard in your ears that you barely hear Ana yelling after you. It’s too late for that; you’re already gone out the door and at half jog, trying to find McCree.

When you find him he is ready for you, “What do _you_ want?”

“You know what's chicken shit? Ambushing somebody like that, and then running away before anybody has a chance to say shit to you.”

He ignores your comment and immediately tries to go for a sore spot, “Tell me. What kinda person you have teh’ be, teh’ just let a killer into your home?”

Oh, so they’ve been talking about you guys. It’s not surprising, and you’re not mad about that fact. It’s the fact that McCree has the audacity to stand there and try and use it against you that has your blood beyond the boiling point.

“I saw someone who needed a safe place to sleep, so I offered that.” You get closer to him. You don't care how much bigger he is than you, you’re ready to fight him, “You could have gone about what you did back there in a much more civil fashion.”

“I think I was pretty fuckin’ civil.”

“No, you weren’t. There was a better time and place, along with a better tone and word choice.” Then you decide to go for a sore spot, “Does Genji know you're speaking for him?”

McCree’s expression turns dark and dangerous, “That’s none’a your fuckin’ business.”

You scoff, “Sounds like a no to me.”

Ana has found you. She runs up and puts her whole body between the two of you saying, “Alright. That’s enough! Separate, right now!”

You and McCree could throw hypothetical punches all day. You’re both hot headed, protective, and undeniably, hopelessly, biased. Nobody but Ana is in the right today. She doesn't have to say it twice. You're done and need to find Hanzo.

He’s disappeared. He’s not in the mess hall, not in his room, the gym, library, or the shooting range. You sit and think, _where would an archer hide?_ And then it hits you, because the answer is so obvious. _The roof._

So your goal now it to find out how to get there. After about fifteen minutes of searching, you come to the dismal realization that Hanzo wouldn't need stairs to get onto the roof. The jerk would have just climbed up there. Finally, out on the small track and field that the facility has, you find a ladder. Even on a thing made for climbing, you nearly fall twice but make it onto the roof safely. Your instincts were right, because there he is. All the way on the other side, cross-legged, and sitting on the edge of the roof.

It’s windy up here. The golden scarf he is always wearing is blowing in the wind, his hair whipping around along side it. He knows you're there, but doesn't turn to acknowledge you. Now that you’re up here, you realize you hadn't thought of a thing to say to him during your search. Oh well, you’ll just have to wing it.

You take a seat next to him and wait to see if he might want to say something first. What he says was not worth waiting for, “Would you do me a favor?”

“Hmm? Sure.”

“Kill me.”

“Okay, now wait a fuckin’ second.” You can’t help but laugh, “Listen, you gotta at least give me a good reason first.”

“McCree is right. I can only begin to imagine what you said to him.”

“There might have been some truth in his words, but Han you didn't deserve to hear them like that.” You take a deep breath. Getting yourself ready to really get into it, “It that true? Genji’s been trying to contact you?”

He nods and looks away into the sunset.

“I have tried, I swear it. I type up responses. Long ones, and then, I stare at them, unable to send them. When I hear his voice, it feels like knives in my gut. It is so familiar, and yet so different. It’s my fault. It’s that way because of me. The knives are my own doing.”

You swallow a hard lump in your throat. It’s welling up, because you really don't know what to say. You’ve only got a small piece of advice, “I think you’ll feel a little better if you just send one of them to him. Just get it done. Once the line of communication is open, hopefully, it’ll get easier.”

Hanzo is silent, deep in thought, and trying to gather the courage to take your advice. It’s not coming to him though. He’s feeling helplessly trapped by fear. It’s unrelenting and will not allow him to do what is best.

“Sometimes,” you start. “Anxiety is an asshole, a bitch, a straight up cunt. Maybe you should just let me press send for you? I won't snoop. I’ll just give that send button the good pressing it deserves and wants.”

His mouth drops open, and for the first time in ten minutes he looks at you, “Vulgar!”

“Don’t change the subject. Let me press it.”

He stares at you confused, but aware that you are trying it.

“Lemme press your send button.”

“Stop.”

“You know, you tell me to stop a lot.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me.”

“What? All I’m saying is you should let me press it. What’s wrong with one person pressing another persons send button?”

There it is, the little upturn of his lip that lets you know he’s trying not to be amused. “Does your mind ever cease?”

“No, and seriously, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“You have helped enough.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. You scoot closer to him, pressing your arm to his, and laying your head down on his shoulder. Hanzo takes a hold of your hand and pulls it over onto his knee. The sunset is especially beautiful with, greens, purples and blues, all weaving into each other. Big fluffy clouds that are like cotton candy, as if you could reach up and grab it right out of the sky. The air is crisp and refreshing, clearing your mind, and coaxing you into feeling tranquil.

Hanzo’s thumb runs across the top of your hand, “May I ask you a question?”

You nod against his shoulder.

“How have you been sleeping?”

You shrug.

“There’s a renowned doctor here. Perhaps she could help you.”

If you didn’t have a fear of medication, and an unhealthy mindset that it would be weak of you to take them, you might have considered it.

“I don’t know about that.”

“It worries me. Ana could give us a mission anytime. You shouldn’t go into such dangerous situations deprived of something as essential as sleep.”

“Hmm,” you really don't want to see Angela about this.

Hanzo gently lifts your chin up, so that you are looking at him. You’re a fool for teasing him so much, because he knows your weakness now. He has your gaze, has you trapped in his warm brown eyes. He speaks soft and low, his voice smooth and deep. It’s nearly hypnotizing.

“It’s not only a danger to you, but to the people who are counting on you to have their back. Don’t you want a decent sleep schedule?”

You hear him; you really do, and of course, you’d like to be able to sleep regularly. You don’t have an answer, because you’re unashamedly gazing at his plush lips. They’re giving you tingles in funny places. You hum, and sigh through your nose.

He says, “Relationships are about compromise, yes?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Let’s make an agreement. You go and see the doctor, and I will send Genji a message, tonight.”

That’s a deal you can’t refuse, “You got it.”

Hanzo now rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. The way it parts ever-so-slightly from your top one has his core warming up. He kisses your top and bottom lip individually, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. He’s thinking about pushing you back onto the roof, about using his mouth to pull moans from you. He’d like to know what they sound like. He wonders if you are loud, or quiet and restrained. He smiles to himself as he thinks the word, restrained. As if you’d be restrained, but then again, you could surprise him.

Still grinning, he kisses you again. This time with an increased amount of passion. The moan that Hanzo wants to hear almost escapes your throat, but gets caught between an intake of breath and the little bit of tongue that is playing at your lips. The warmth from your tongue sends Hanzo's thoughts into whole new unchaste places.

When Ana interrupts the moment, you nearly fall off the roof, because she scared the hell out of you. Ana ignores that the two of you were just making out on the roof, like two teenagers who don't have anywhere better to do it, and gets right down to business. You have a brief conversation with Ana, she was worried the two of you might be thinking about leaving. No. As of right now, you’re both not going anywhere. She is glad to hear it, and informs you that a week from today you’ll be going on your first mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come bother me on [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)


	7. Swan Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are kept, you and Hanzo get dressed up, and you go on your first mission for Overwatch! (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

The past week has been...interesting to say the least. As promised, Hanzo sent Genji a message, and you went to go see Dr. Ziegler. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but a full check-up was not it. You were with her for over three hours, explaining the bots, and explaining all of your other medical history. The doctor took a tremendous amount of time examining your skin and taking scans.

Eventually, she gave you some medication for insomnia, but warned that abusing it would only make your sleeping habits worse. When she lists off side effects, you think about throwing them out the first chance you get. She lists off things like sleep-walking, memory lapses, and hallucinations; all valid reasons why you don’t like medications.

What she'd really like you to do is stick to the plan she has worked out for you. She sends you a detailed spreadsheet with paragraphs of bullet points, of the do's and don'ts of a healthy sleep schedule. You can readily admit that there are several things in the list that you can work on.

Angela playfully says, "At least we have security here and can see if you sleep walk out of your room. We won't let you walk off any high places, I promise."

That’s sweet and creepy. Security monitoring isn’t necessary, whether Angela is wholly joking or not, since you and Hanzo have been sharing a bed at night. He’d keep an eye out for any sleepwalking incidents, should they happen. While Angela fiddles with some scans, your mind wonders. You think about the past few nights you spent wrapped around Hanzo, and Hanzo wrapped around you. The times when things would get a little... passionate, are prominent, and take priority over other more chaste thoughts. As hands wonder, grab, and rub in wanting places. Bodies getting pulled, closer and closer. The image is vivid in your mind, and you can feel your form becoming warmer in the doctor's cold office.

With a slight shake of your head, you push the thoughts way. Instead, you think about how Hanzo talks a surprising amount when he’s fighting sleep. About how he had trailed off mid-sentence, and when you asked him about it in the morning, he couldn’t even remember talking in the first place. Angela is done with studying her notes and scans, and finds nothing to be too concerned about. She says your name, but you don't hear her. Your face turns a bit red when you notice that Angela is standing there amused by watching you be lost in thought.

Later that day, sitting in the briefing room, along with Hanzo, Hana, Lucio, and McCree, who is still keeping an extreme distance from the two of you. Well, extreme meaning, sitting at the very end of the table. You all listen to the mission briefing. The moment she had said the words “undercover” and “Swan Ball,” you nearly got up and left Overwatch altogether. Ana can clearly see the disgust on your face and is not amused.

“Are you going to be able to handle this?”

“I mean. Yeah, I guess.”

Hanzo pinches your thigh under the table, and you pinch him back. He jumps a little, because you pinched him much harder than he had you. Ana narrows her eyes, on the urge of giving you a scolding.

“I need you to be serious. Can you or can you not handle this?”

“Yes, I can handle it,” you pause. “I’m just not gonna be happy about it.”

Ana shrugs, “That's fine. As long as we get what we need.”

It does seem simple. Get in, blend in, get the intel, and get out. However, Ana describes this ball as something eccentric. She warns the two of you to be wary of the attendees, and the underlying dark rumors that surround the event. A lot of high power, rich people will be there. She looks directly at you when she says this, “Don’t piss anyone off. You have to play the part.”

Hanzo actually asks a useful question, “What part should we be adhering to?”

While Ana struggles to find the right words for it, Hana pipes up with yet another colorful description, “A couple of assholes with lots of money, who are bored and absolutely not impressed by anything ever. Yeah, Ana?”

“Pretty much.”

Hanzo nods, “That’s doable.”

Lucio adds, “I think once you guys see the attitudes these people carry around, it’ll be easy peezy.”

Hanzo grins and repeats, “Easy peezy?”

Lucio hits the table lightly with his palms, “Easy, freakin, peezy, dude!”

Hanzo looks to you and raises his eyebrows, asking a question that is not obvious to you.

“What?”

“Easy peezy?”

You scrunch up your face at him, and look to Ana for some kind of solace, “What the hell is happening?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I think this meeting is over, and you all need to get out of my face.”

You are all happy to do so. Like a bunch of kids being dismissed early from class, you all bolt. Later that day you meet up with Hana, who had been tasked with picking out your outfit for the ball, while Lucio was helping out Hanzo with his. The watchpoint has a grand closet full of clothes to play dress up with. The moment Hana brings out the first dress you are already done. You protest, but Hana refuses to let you say no until you at least try it on.

The dress doesn’t look any more appealing on. It’s black, from head to toe. Most of the fabric is a shiny leather, and it blooms out at the waist, flowing all the way down to the floor. The worst part of the dress is the neck piece, which that sticks up out of the back of the neck and frames your head in an awful lace.

“Hana. You can’t tell me that you actually like this dress.”

“I. Love. It!”

“Is Lucio dressing up Han like Dracula? 'Cause I look like one of his wenches! Hana, listen, this dress is terrible!”

Hana pouts, “Good, I’m glad you think it looks like that.”

“Get me a different dress, please. What the hell am I gonna do if I gotta fight? I don’t even know if the bots would know how to protect me in this thing!”

“So, are you trying to tell me you need something with less fabric?”

Not exactly but, “Sure.”

She smiles coyly, “Oh. I can do that.”

While Hana is no doubt getting another dress that is just going to piss you off, Hanzo makes his way in. When he sees you, he places his hand on his mouth, trying to stifle a grin and a laugh.

“Han, you can laugh. It’s god awful. It’s okay.”

He removes his hand, “That is atrocious.”

“Did Lucio try to put you in some ridiculous shit?”

“The suit is not what I would call traditional, but it is nothing like that,” He pauses and then adds, “I think it’s also important to mention that it is not practical for any kind of combat.”

“I know! Thank you, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

Hana makes her way back in with a big, “Oh hey Hanzo!” She lays down a black dress bag and presents you to him, “Don’t you think she looks stunning? Huh? Yeah? Do you like it?”

Hanzo actually looks like he feels bad, “I am sorry Hana, but I do not.”

She snickers and says under her breath, “No wonder you like each other. You both have bad taste.”

Hanzo says, “On the contrary.”

Hana glares at him while she unzips the dress bag. She pulls out a two piece dress. It’s entirely made of silk. The halter top is not ideal, as it’s got the thinnest straps you’ve ever seen. The bottom is long and flowing, with a slit that would come up just below your hip in the front, on the right leg. It’s waist high and would sit on your body nicely. It’s a creamy white color, and you don't hate it.

Hana can’t read your facial expression, so she says, “If we go any more simplistic than this, they won’t even let you through the door! You have to look like you belong there!”

You throw your hands up, “Whoa, whoa! That one is fine. I’ll take it, please. I wanna be done with this.”

 

*

 

Mission day comes a lot faster than you would have liked. In the dead middle of the night, you and Hanzo are dropped off at a fancy hotel. This is where a driver, who has no idea he is off-handedly a part of a mission, will pick the two of you up and take you to the ball. The invitations had been procured by McCree. When he had handed them over to Ana, you had heard him say, “You're real lucky we don’t gotta get blood off of 'em.”

The invitations are lavish, on thick stark white paper, real gold embroidery, handwritten, and with beautiful calligraphy. When the evening comes around, Hana shows up to help you get ready. You're fully capable of doing your own hair and makeup, but Hana insists on doing it anyway. Admittedly, you are glad you let her do it, because it looks perfect. Then she moves onto to Hanzo, who patiently sits with his hands in his lap, while Hana tries out a total of six different hairstyles, before finally deciding on a simple down do.

Hanzo certainly does look handsome. In a two-toned black, three-piece suit that fits him perfectly. A thin chain is hooked onto one of the buttons of his vest and disappearing back into the jacket. His belt buckle is a tarnished gold, an antique emblem of a dragon. Not only does he look amazing and ready to play the part, he is also cool as a cucumber.

You really wish that you could say the same. You’re nervous as hell. It feels like that the moment anyone you’re supposed to be fooling sets their eyes on you, they’re going to know you don't belong there. Before Hana leaves, she lets you know that she’ll be ready to assist you guys at a moments notice. You tell her thank you, sincerely, because it feels good to know she has your back.

Hanzo takes a hold of your hands, “Are you ready? Was there anything you wanted to discuss before we leave?”

“Aren't you nervous?”

“No.”

“Seriously? Not even a little bit?”

“I am not nervous. You are nervous.”

“Yeah! I’m nervous, what the hell are we about to walk into?”

“Breathe,” he says as he lays a gentle kiss onto your forehead, “It’s only a simple mission.”

You want to believe that. But you’ve got a feeling, and the bots are already singing underneath your skin.

You say "thanks" as the driver opens up your door for you. When Hanzo gets in after you, he is smirking. He gets close to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. He places his cheek against yours and whispers, "Do not say thank you. Say thank you to no one tonight."

Your foot taps against the floor, "Sorry."

He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, "You look beautiful."

You glower at him, “You’re trying to distract me."

"You look gorgeous. A modern goddess."

The phrase "thank you" plays at your lips, but you catch it before it can escape, "I know what you're trying to do. You won't trick me."

He chuckles deep in his chest. Then he kisses your temple, and then your lips, "I mean what I say."

It is true. Hanzo has been waiting to let you know what he’s been thinking all evening. It is so juvenile, but you can’t help that you're blushing or that your tummy flutters. Hanzo throws his leg over yours and latches onto your neck, kissing, and sucking, for the entire ride. Letting your head rest back against the seat, you run your nails up the back of his neck into his hair, close your eyes, and just enjoy it.

When the car pulls up to the ball, you take the brief time you have to get the shock and awe out of your system.

The car now sits in front of a giant mansion, built to look like ancient Greece. It’s by the ocean; you could hear it and smell it a couple miles back. Despite how big and menacing the place is, the ocean reminds you of home and makes you feel a little calmer. There is a steady stream of people all making their way up the steps that lead to the grand looking entrance, where two large double doors are wide open. Guards are taking invitations and checking to see if people's outfits fit the bill.

The driver opens the door, and Hanzo helps you step out of the car. The driver lingers after he closes the door, so Hanzo waves him away, “You can leave.”

You are going to have to remember that the two of you are playing a part, because you nearly shot him a look for how rude that was. He stands in front of you adjusting your shoulder straps. When the driver is out of hearing range he says, “Stand up straight, shoulders back. You need to look bored, not terrified.”

Without waiting for a response, he offers you his arm. You take it reluctantly and with a deep throaty growl.

“Angry would be sufficient as well,” the tiniest hint of a smile plays at his lips.

Of course, the two of you pass the outfit check. So much so that the guard who gave you the okay had no shame in letting his eyes linger. Both on you and Hanzo.

Lucio wasn’t kidding when he said that once you see the attitudes, you’ll get it. Their demeanor is infectious, like a cold that you desperately want to avoid. It seems like no one here came to this party sober or even understands why they are here. Let alone wants to be here.

You don’t know a lot about drugs. Your life never led you down that road, but you can tell by the blown pupils, and the sways in people's stances that they are all, for the most part, on something. A small group sees the two of you and immediately pulls you in for conversation.

You never thought you'd see the day when Hanzo would be doing all the talking. But you really have no idea what they are talking about, and Hanzo seems to know all the right things to say. Hanzo is really in his element, playing the part perfectly, matching the inflections and mannerisms of the group. He’s adapted so well. No one would ever think he doesn't belong here.

One of the women has been staring at you, and it has your paranoia through the roof. She leans forward and croons, “What’s the matter, dearie? Coming down a little too fast?”

She strokes her nails along your arm, and your whole body goes ridged. You’re so offended and put off. How dare she touch you. Your voice is stolen away by rage, and that’s the best possible outcome for this situation. Hanzo carefully brushes the woman’s hand away from your shoulder.

“I think it’s only polite to ask to touch something that’s not yours.”

Hanzo doesn't mean it, and he’s hoping you know that. While you do, you still did not like hearing him say that.

The woman snatches her hand away, “Oh! I am so sorry!” She places the offending hand to her chest, “Sometimes I am just so forgetful.”

Then the woman reaches into her clutch and hands Hanzo a tiny ziplock bag, that looks to have about five different looking pills in them. She winks and says, “The oval white one, I think, would be perfect for her mood.”

He takes the bag from her and stuffs it into his pocket, “If you’ll excuse us, we need to find the restroom.”

As you're being guided through the crowd, the guards close the doors. Watching them close feels like being sealed in a prison. They’re so big and heavy that they make a slight booming noise. No one else notices it, but you do. The sound is almost deafening. You barely notice when Hanzo pulls you into the bathroom. Or that nobody cares that you went in together.

Hanzo locks the door and immediately flushes the pills. Unlike you, he’s versed in drugs. Knows what they do to people and knows exactly what got handed to him. He doesn’t want those in his possession any longer than necessary. He keeps a comfortable distance from you, giving you the space you need. Watching you as you press your forehead to the pristine granite tiles that line the walls.

“We need to refocus.”

You take a deep and long breath through your nose, “I agree.”

“There’s a staircase just outside of this hall. It’s lightly guarded. I’ll think it’d be best for you to keep watch, and I’ll get the intel.”

You’re fine with that. He’s far stealthier than you are, and you’re good with the distractions. However, the intel, the plans, and the distractions are all about to be far, far away from being important. Ana buzzes in your ear, _“If you can, give me a status update.”_

While Hanzo is answering her, you notice that the party has gotten eerily quiet. Too quiet. No more music, and no chatter. It’s extremely unnatural. So much so that you think that perhaps it’s only happening in your head.

“Hey Han?”

“Yes?”

“Do you. Do you hear… anything?”

His face scrunches up, and he looks confused. He listens and then says, “No I do not.”

“That’s strange right?”

“Yes, it is.”

Hana frantically says, _“Hold tight! Don’t die! We’re on our way!”_

“What the hell is going on Hana?”

Lucio answers with a, _“We got a big, big problem!”_

The others can see something that what you can not. Not yet.

It’s as if the bots are controlling your muscles. It feels like you are outside of yourself. Watching as you open up the bathroom door and step outside into the hall. All of the party goers are staring up at something, or someone. You should be going in the opposite direction, but you continue down the hall. Eventually ending back amidst the crowd. And you see who they are struck still by.

A tall, imposing man stands at the top of a wide staircase at the opposite end of the room. He’s wearing black from head to toe and a sinister mask covers his face. Hanzo comes up behind you and whispers in your ear, “We need to find a way out of here.”

It’s time for you to come back into your body, but everything seems so surreal as you look around at the crowd. Why isn’t anyone freaking out? Even the guards don’t seem to be all that alarmed by the menacing man on the stairs, who clearly has big and dangerous weapons attached to his back. They’re just staring at him. Waiting on whatever it is he’s here to do. Could it be that everyone is just so collectively high that they don't care that their lives are in danger? They must believe this is a part of the party.

The man starts to take big and deliberate steps down the stairs. When he speaks, it’s loud without needing to shout, distorted, and deep.

“Tonight was not going to end well for any of you,” he stops to scan the crowd, “Before the real fun happens, a little bird told me, that a couple of Overwatch rats fell for the cheese.”

When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, the man takes the time to really get in people's faces. “Who is it I wonder? I’m not seeing any familiar faces. Are they still roping in new fools?”

The crowd finally reacts with yelps and gasps as the man's legs turn into smoke, and a thick tendril separates itself from the mass to wrap around an unsuspecting man's neck.

Ana asks, _“What’s your status? You two are awfully quiet; I don’t like it.”_

You whisper, “There’s a man here.”

_“That’s too vague. A man? Give me a better description.”_

Hanzo quickly and quietly describes him.

_“Oh, that’s very bad. How’d he figure out we’d be here?”_

_“I dunno ‘bout you boss, but this is startin’ to feel like a trap,”_ McCree says. He sounds winded. You nearly forgot he was even on the mission too.

While they’re chattering in your ear, the man is still choking the party goer. One of the guards finally jumps into action and points a gun at him. The menacing man quickly disposes of him with a powerful shotgun blast to the chest. Now the room is terrified, finally awoken out of whatever stupor they were in. They start to run and scream.

The sound of the gunshot send the bots into a frenzy. You grab two fists full of your dress in an effort to try and stay in control. If they spring free now, then he’ll definitely know you're the odd man out.

Hanzo asks, “Who is this man?”

McCree answers, _“The Reaper.”_

Something ginormous and loud crashes into the side of the mansion. Whatever it is, screeches. It’s a sound that pierces through your eardrums and sends nausea into your gut. The Reaper growls and says to someone who is in his own ear, “Didn’t I tell you idiots to fuckin’ wait? Let me find the rats first!”

Another loud crash against the side of the building, and it physically starts to fall apart. The crowd is starting to panic now. All running in different directions, trying to find a safe way out. They knock into you and Hanzo several times. They don’t care about anyone else’s safety but their own. Unfortunately, another knock to the building sends a large and sharp piece of concrete at your head. It gashes you just above your eye, and the bots have had enough of listening to you.

You try to push Hanzo away from you. Maybe if he’s far enough away his cover won’t be immediately blown. For whatever it’s worth, you're still fighting them as they rip themselves from your pores and tear your beautiful dress to shreds. White fabric litters the floor, and you are now “protected”, but a terribly sore thumb in the middle of the crowd.

The Reaper chuckles, “Found one.”

The tendril that was wrapped around the man is now snaking through the crowd and headed straight towards you. Hanzo yanks you out of the way and holds on while the two of you run through the mass of terrified people. The wall of the mansion finally gives to whatever is beating against it, but you don’t get a chance to see what it is.

Lucio, _“What’s your position! I came bearing weapons!”_

Hanzo answers, “Northwest corner. We’ll be out in the garden soon. The Reaper is on our tail.”

_“Not a problem! I’ll meetcha' there!”_

Hanzo still has a firm hold on your wrist. Thankfully, you’re not having a problem keeping up with him. Actually, you could stand to run faster. When you make it out into the garden, you get a chance to see Lucio in action. He’s skating along the side of the wall, precariously high, and still wearing a grand smile on his face.

He launches himself off the wall, lands gracefully and with style, onto the ground. He tosses your harness to you, and then removes the bow and arrows he had been carrying on his back to Hanzo. He gives you both a thumbs up, “Ready to rock this joint?”

Hanzo chuckles, “Absolutely.”

The Reaper catches up with you, and at first, he’s just a giant mass of black smoke, before he partially materializes. He points a shotgun at Lucio.

Lucio goes, “Hey man! That ain’t nice!” He skates off before Reaper even gets the chance to pull the trigger.

The Reaper isn’t interested in following him when he’s got two sitting ducks right in front of him. You and Hanzo bolt in opposite directions. Hanzo is looking for higher ground, while you haven’t the slightest clue what your plan is. No amount of running is going to be fast enough to keep you from getting ensnared. A tendril wraps itself harshly around your waist. You can feel its aura through the bots. It feels like dread and sickness. A terrible fog fills your gut, and vomit threatens to push it’s way up through your throat.

The Reaper effortlessly lifts you up off the ground. He slams you into a nearby statue that guards the middle of a fountain. He then drags you into the water. The tendril snakes around your neck and holds you there. You’re not going to drown; he’s going to have to figure out a different way to kill you. There’s enough air in your helmet for you to be calm enough to grab a pistol off your hips as he approaches.

Your vision is distorted through the water, so you do your best and fire off shots with reckless abandon. One of the shots land in a spot that causes the tendrils to dissipate into the water. You briefly get the chance to see a bullet hole in the middle of his mask. That’s unsettling, seeing as the Reaper is still clearly alive. He tries shooting you, and a spray of pellets get sent back to him.

Before the Reaper has the chance to send another tendril after you, an arrow sticks into his neck. Then another one, and another one. The fourth one causes him to fall over momentarily, and now he’s pissed. His attention diverts into the general direction of the arrows. Having forgotten all about you, Reaper ghosts off in a hunt to find Hanzo.

“Hey, Ana? What's our objective here? Should we be getting the hell out of here or what?”

_“We need to stop that thing!”_

Looks who’s being vague now, “More information?”

McCree barks in your ear, _“Are you tryna’ tell me you don't see that beast?”_

“Obviously not!”

It won’t take much longer for you to see what they are yelling about. The mansion sounds like it’s being torn to shreds. Thunderous booms and terrible screeches continue to echo out into the garden.

“Han? You need help?”

_“I am handling it.”_

Hopefully, that’s true, because you're not going to be able to assist him even if you wanted to. Finally, you get to see it. The beast that McCree and Ana were talking about. It violently pulls itself over the roof of the mansion. Large portions of the building fall apart in its wake. It’s a giant omnic, shaped to look like a lizard, with a plethora of terrible looking spikes all over its body.

Someone took a lot of care and effort into making this thing look at terrifying as possible, or it wouldn’t have the unnecessary red glowing eyes that are bearing down on you right now. It opens its mouth and lets out a horrible, high-pitched screech. Then it launches itself down onto the ground. It shakes the earth underneath your feet and nearly knocks you over.

It’s time to get the fuck out of here. You bolt, but the beast has you in its sights and is ready to chase. It scurries after you. You’ve got no chance of outrunning it. So you try and do your best to slow it down. You run out of the garden, up a hill, precariously close to the cliff's edge. You’re hoping that maybe the grenade you are about to throw back will cause the beast to fall over into the ocean.

It doesn't, but it does slow it down long enough for you not to get crushed under its weight. You get another grenade ready and continue to run. Of course, it would be now when the sky would decide to open up the dark clouds it’s been threatening the night with. Rain falls down hard and instantly makes it harder to get traction on the ground that is nearly all made of sand.

You’re in trouble. The beast is going to catch up with you any moment now and will easily kill you with the weight of whatever it chooses to bring down on your body. The bots can’t protect you from that. You toss another grenade back; this one hits it right in its face, blasting off several shards of spikes, and takes out half of one of its eyes.

“Hey! Does anybody plan on helping me out!”

Hana is the first to pipe up, _“I’ve got you! I am almost there! Just keep running!”_

You didn’t have any plans to stop. Hana boosts so fast that she nearly crashes into you with her mech. You don’t have time to take in how badass she looks in her mech. You’ve got more running to do. She blasts into the beast with her canons, but it still seems to do little about slowing it down. The thing is fevered. It seems to have real emotions that are propelling it forward, making it determined to take as many lives as it can.

“Time for plan B!”

Hana scoops you up off the ground, holds you close to the front of the mech’s body, and propels the two of you off of the cliff. It happens in slow motion. You watch as the beast opens its mouth wide, a large net shoots out, and ensnares you guys. The net falls at a terribly fast speed, the mech acting like a giant wrecking ball, and it careens into the side of the cliff.

You are extremely lucky that the positions of you and Hana hadn’t been switched. If it had been so, you would have been pinned between a ton of mech and harsh jagged rock.

Hanzo, _“Hana! Will you survive a fall in the mech?”_

The beast starts to reel the net in.

“Yes!”

_“Can you keep her from hitting the ground?”_

“You have my word!”

An arrow flies and perfectly cuts open a large portion of the net. Having never let go, Hana tightens the mechs grip on your body. It’s a little too tight, but you’ll forgive her for the lack of air. Another arrow zips by and it’s enough to let you both fall out of the imprisonment of the net. Hana’s thrusters were crushed with the collision of the mountain, but she keeps herself belly up and takes the brunt of the crash on to the beach with the mech’s back.

The whiplash is severe, and she loses her grip on you when she hits the ground. You get tossed into the shallow part of the ocean, but you're alive. Hana is struggling; she can’t get herself back up, and the beast isn’t nearly done hunting you down.

She’s pissed as hell and cursing up a storm, “I’m stuck! I can’t get out! I can’t get out!”

You get up and run to her side, “Is there a fail-safe?”

“Yes! But it’s not working!”

The beast scurries down the side of the mountain. Its grip fails, and it falls just short of crushing the two of you. There’s nothing else you can do. Hana can’t go anywhere, and you’re not about to leave her. The beast rears back, standing high on its back legs, and getting ready to bring is cruel spikes down on you.

Suddenly a brilliant blue light glides down the mountainside. Powerful roars fill the air, taking over, and drowning out all other sounds. You can’t hear the beast, the rain, or Hana. The bots vibrate and warm your skin as the air becomes unbearably cold. Two grand and majestic dragons tear their way through the beast, stopping it dead in its tracks.

The beast shudders one last time, trying to fight against the unrelenting sub-zero temperatures that are making every facet of its being unmovable. You watch in awe as the dragons glide over your head. Two of the most beautiful and magical beings you have ever laid eyes on. They turn the rain they touch into snow, and the ocean water they touch into ice.

Snow falls on you as the dragons make their way back onto land. One of them transforms right before your eyes, into the version that you are more familiar with. While the other makes its way back up the cliff to its owner. Aoi sprints its way towards you, kicking up bits of sand in its wake.

Hana is freaking out, “Holy shit! What was that! That was rad! I can’t see shit anymore! My mech's all frozen over! Was that Hanzo? Was that him? I lost my comm; do you still have yours?”

You don’t. Well, you probably still have it, but it’s lodged somewhere between the bots and your chin. The bots won’t be retreating anytime soon. You don’t even bother to try and ask them to, so you can’t fix the comm’s position. Aoi chirps and jumps up and down. It wants something, and you think you might know what that is.

You hold out your arms and say, “Hey! Look I’m okay, I’m alright see? Tell him we’re okay.”

Hana is not having a good time, “What is that? What are you talking to? Are we okay? Are we safe? Is that thing dead?”

Aoi shakes out its cold before hopping up into your arms. You stand up and look towards the tops of the cliffs in search of Hanzo. There he is, bow in hand, in a regal and powerful stance, and looking like a guardian angel. You can feel your heart swelling, because you feel so damn lucky. Lucky to be alive, lucky to have new friends, and lucky to have multiple people you can trust with your life.

Hanzo’s heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest. For a brief moment, he thought he had failed. Didn’t run fast enough. Didn’t release the dragons in time. Wasn’t good enough, never good enough. How could he be worthy of friendship or love if he can’t protect it? The night is dark, and the rain is unforgiving. He can barely make out your silhouette. But he can still see you, cradling his dragon in your arms. A light sing-song voice whispers; _We did it! They live!_

“Yes. Thank you, Aoi.”

You’re looking at each other from a great distance, but still able to feel each other's presence. The weight of caring is heavy and frightening. Just how much it would have hurt to have lost one another is ever present. Your hearts are aching with three heavy words, but now’s not the time.

“You know, I hate to interrupt whatever moment the two of you might be having, but, uh, can I get some freakin’ help over here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, friends! I just wanted to say thank you for the support and the continued reading! This is the seventh chapter and if you're still here (or new, and have made it this far) I am very grateful. I know I answer every comment, but I just wanted to make sure my appreciation is clear. You guys have been so kind! Hope you enjoyed the more action-oriented chapter! The next will be much less so ｡^‿^｡ 
> 
> As always you can come talk to me on, [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)


	8. Getting Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~You and Hanzo recover from your mission, that's it, absolutely nothing else happens in this chapter. Nothing of importance or of interest.~~
> 
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> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

Hanzo gets away from the mission nearly unscathed. Mild scrapes and bruises litter his body, but they are nothing to be worried about. You, on the other hand, are not so lucky. The Reaper, and the multiple falls you had, did quite a number on you. Like most situations like this, the pain doesn't settle in until the adrenaline has run its course through your veins. Now you’re sitting in the infirmary getting stitches above your eye and waiting to get your shoulder reset.

It had been dislocated somewhere in the fray of things. You don't know when exactly, as you hadn’t felt it happen. Dr. Ziegler is having to help you and McCree at the same time, who also didn’t leave the mission unscathed. This is nothing, the Doctor assures you. She’s had to deal with far, far worse. You don’t doubt it. She’s not a renowned doctor for nothing.

McCree keeps his eyes on the floor as Angela leaves the room stating that she’ll be right back. The doctor has strict rules about her office. “If you’re not hurt, if you don't need me, get out.” This rule has you pouting, because getting your shoulder reset is going to hurt. You would really like Hanzo’s moral support, and maybe his hand to hold. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to complain about it out loud.

So here you and McCree are, left alone to try and not glower at each other. The room falls into an awkward silence. This would be a really good time for the two of you to get over your pettiness.

You happen to know how McCree got hurt. The reason being that Hanzo was there when it happened. McCree had assisted him in dealing with the Reaper, and in the process got a thigh littered with shotgun pellets. He is lucky the shot was from so far away, or his injury could have been a whole lot worse. Hanzo insists that he might not have made it out alive if he hadn’t shown up. Hanzo also informed you that somewhere between dying and not dying they worked things out.

So you’re thinking that you’d like to work things out as well. But everything you want to say to the man just sounds laced with sarcasm in your head. And no matter how many times you try and reword them, they never sound any better.

McCree takes in a deep and heavy sigh before standing up. He says “aw hell”, limps over to you and extends his hand, “I’m sorry about bein’ an ass; we good?”

You stare at his hand for a moment before taking it, “I’m sorry too. Yeah, we’re good.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes to get rid of misplaced animosity. You’re not friends, not even close, but you’ll get there. When Angela comes back, she’s appalled to see McCree standing and chastises him accordingly.

When she goes to reset your shoulder, McCree offers you some advice, “Just close your eyes and think about drinkin’ some real strong alcohol, and it’ll be over faster than you know.”

The advice didn’t work in the way he had intended, but it worked none the less. Because you were so taken back by it. You guys made amends two minutes ago, and now you're hearing the nicest sentence McCree’s ever said to you. It’s enough to distract you from a large portion of the pain. Before you know it, it is over. And you’ve got full use of your arm back.

When you are released from the infirmary, you approach Ana to see if she has any orders for you. Ana gives you the okay to go back to your normal schedule, and briefly apologizes. She feels guilty for having not known that the intel was a trap. You assure her there are no hard feelings, shit happens. When McCree starts to comfort her, you leave them alone, because you don't know what else to say to her. Ana and McCree have history, and he's got it handled.

It only takes a couple of days for the mission to feel like a distant memory. You and Hanzo are hanging out in his room, which has unofficially turned into your room as well. He’s laying on his back, and you’re straddling him. He’s begging you to get off, because you won’t stop tickling him. That’s not going to happen, 'cause the thing is, you have him giggling. _Hanzo_ is giggling, and you’ll do anything to keep seeing and hearing this.

“Why are you so ticklish right there?”

You poke at the spot again, and he grabs a hold of your wrist. He’s smiling so hard it looks like it hurts, “Stop! I do not know!”

You keep your other arm hidden behind your back in order to keep him from holding it hostage.

“You are literally not ticklish anywhere else, but between this ab and this one.”

As you point out the spot, you have to dodge and weave his ensnarement of your one free arm. You manage to get a small poke in, and he lurches. You nearly get bucked off but are saved by his hold on your wrist. His eyes are shut tight as he silently laughs, “Please, spare me.”

You grant him his request. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his, and really take in time to look at that grin before it fades.

“That smile is golden.” You kiss him, “You should let yourself do that more.”

He feigns dramatic shock, “An eloquent compliment! You must be ill."

You giggle and say, ”Fuck you!"

"Ah, there she is."

Hanzo wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. His hips shift slightly, closing the small gap that there was between you. Your heart quickens, and for good reason. You undulate your hips and meet the enthusiasm he’s planting on your mouth. Hanzo usually kisses with such precision, each motion deliberately placed, but right now it’s much less so. The kisses are thoughtless, even a little sloppy, and it’s appropriate for the way the mood has shifted. His chest is quickly rising and falling beneath yours. You lightly glide your nails over his pecs, and this pulls a lovely groan from him.

He retaliates by working his hand between the two of your flush bodies and finds his way down into your pants. You welcome him in by moving your hips a little faster against his open palm. You weave your fingers into his hair and continue to try and get your tongue as far into his mouth as you can. The pressure starts to build within your core, and it becomes harder and harder for you to keep kissing him. So you bury your face into his neck, and let yourself fall to pieces.

Hanzo breaths out your name in a way that sends shivers all the way from your head to your toes, “I love you.”

You whisper into his ear, “I love you too.”

There was no thinking about. No conflicted feelings. No shame or fear in saying or knowing it. You sit up and quickly get undressed. The only thing you want right now is to be as close to him as possible and to feel as much of him as possible. Hanzo sits up with you. His warm mouth travels all over your body, pausing to focus in on the parts that make you shiver and gasp the most.

Hanzo lays you back on the bed and takes his time gazing over your body. He’ll be getting plenty of other chances to admire you, but right now is the first time he gets to tell you how much he loves your figure. You are such a sight, laid out before him, so open and so soft. You’re unreal to him; an elaborate figment of his imagination. He scolds himself. How can that be true? When he’s got his hands running down the length of your torso; when he can feel the muscles under your skin responding to his touch: you’re real, and you're here with him. He sees that you have many little scars. Hanzo thinks he knows where they might have come from. But that doesn’t matter right now, and they serve you well.

All he wants to do is continue to make you feel good. The way your body both melts and tenses up under his touch, and the sounds of your delicate whines, are quickly becoming addicting. Hanzo reaches in between your spread legs and watches your face as it lights up with lust and need. Hanzo receives an eager lift of your hips. This makes him grin, “Am I not going fast enough for you?”

You’d say something snarky if that question didn’t have aching truth behind it.

“Hanzo, touch me, please.”

The sound of your voice, and the way your eyes plead, is pleasantly shocking.

He doesn’t deny you your pleasure any longer. Though a small piece of him would like to hear you beg some more. Hanzo has your back arching, hands full of the bed sheet. While small whimpers are forcing their way out from deep within your chest. Hanzo knows it might be a little cruel to pull way as your about to cascade over the edge, but he wants to finish it off with his face planted snuggly between your thighs.

Your hand reaches for his and you weave your fingers together. Your nails dig into the flesh of his hand, as he continues to drive you back into that place of euphoria. Shaking thighs squeeze his face, and he couldn't be more pleased with himself. When your body goes limp, he sits up, reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom.

You playfully question him, “How long have you had those?”

He smiles coyly, “Too long.”

You sit up before he can slip it on and take his length into your hand, “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

Hanzo shudders, “Hush.”

“Okay,” you say as you take him into your mouth.

You’ve got a clawed grip on his ass as you work your mouth up and down his length. Hanzo holds back your hair so he can watch you. Every time you hum or moan, he can’t help but tighten his grip. Hanzo coos at you, telling you how soft and warm you are. The tighter his grip is, the more it encourages you to go faster. Until he’s had enough and gently pulls you off of him.

He growls as he takes a hold of your chin, so he can kiss you and demand that you lay back. This is when you discover that you love that growl, and that commanding tone. You comply and lift your leg, so you can run your foot down his chest as he slips the condom on.

He places your ankle on his shoulder and leans forward. He enters you with ease, and you both remain still for a moment. Acclimating to the feel of each other, before hips start to buck and thrust. Hanzo isn’t being gentle, but that's not something that either of you want. The small bed struggles against the momentum. Every rake of your nails against his skin makes him think he won't be able to keep from toppling over the edge.

But then your body starts to shake and quiver again. You make an enticing face that he hopes he’ll be seeing more often. While your breath is shaky, and your chest is heaving, you beg him to catch his end. No amount of willpower could keep him from that now. The muscles in his back beautifully flex, as he lays down on top of you cursing and saying your name.

Hanzo stays on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck, laying lazy kisses every once and a while. You’re both blissful in the throws of endorphin-induced relaxation. The tension your bodies usually carry is far off for the moment. When you guys fall asleep, it’s the middle of the day, and when you wake up, it’s nearly dinner time. You can’t feel a good portion of your legs, as Hanzo has been sleeping on them for three hours.

You're starving, but you're so comfortable. Your body is still so sleep ridden that you don’t really want to move, no matter how much your stomach is begging you to do so. But then you remember that Hanzo is like a human garbage disposal. If you’re starving, you can only imagine how hungry he must be. When you’re about to bring up dinner, he lightly chuckles against your chest, and for seemingly no reason.

“You loosin’ it Han?"

He shakes his head and breathes in deeply, "How did I end up here?"

"What?"

"How did manage to get here? Into this current moment?"

You try to push his hair back so you can see his face, but he's hiding from you deliberately. “Hanzo what the hell are you talking about?”

"Never mind it.”

"No, talk to me."

“What did I do to deserve this?”

You grab a hold of his chin and force him to look at you, "Shut the fuck up."

"You just told me to talk to you."

“I know, but I don’t like hearing you say shit like that. That's not true. You're exactly where you’re supposed to be."

The look he's giving you is one someone gives when they are grateful for the pity you're handing them. He’s afraid that one of these days you’re going to fade away. Disappear after finally coming to your senses.

You don’t understand it. After everything you’ve been through. After how far you’ve come together. How can he lay on top of you and still not believe you when you say he's good enough?

"Do you wanna count bodies? Let's compare our numbers, shall we? I bet they are pretty similar. I've ruined lives. Good people's lives. Torn families apart. If you don’t deserve this, then I don't either. Am I worthy enough to be here? In this moment? Huh?"

You've gotten yourself so worked up, you’re on the verge of tears. Your words make him sit up. He’s shocked that you would say such blatant truths about your past. He cups your face, "You didn't know any better. Of course, you are worthy. You deserve all of this and more.”

"See?" You point at him, "The way you're feeling right now. That's how I feel when you say things like that. It doesn't feel good, does it? I want you to remember that, every time you're thinking to yourself, I don't deserve this, I'm not good enough, I'm a monster. Remember this feeling right now. It's how you should feel when you put yourself down."

You can see an apology in his eyes, and you hush him before he can even start.

“Don’t say you're sorry, please. You’re a good person, and you deserve good things. And I need to learn to not take these kinds of moments with so much passion. I just...I love you a lot. It’s why I get so worked up. I want you to keep talking to me, so in the future, I’ll simmer down a little alright?”

Hanzo smiles as he works his fingers through your hair, “I think I like it when you get passionate and worked up.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Is it?” He says as he sucks and nibbles at your neck.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can deal with that.”

He hums, “Good to know where the line is at.”

As Hanzo continues to move downward, licking and biting. You forget all about food, and your body focuses on satiating a whole other kind of hunger.

 

*

 

Hanzo’s got the pup in his lap, who had been doing nothing but cry for his attention today. And he’s more than happy to nervously give her all the pets and scratches she wants at the moment. It soothing to have something to do with his hands when he’s feeling high-strung.

At least Hanzo has had the pleasure of discovering that Genji is really good at talking. Just as he had remembered him being. Genji still doesn't seem real. But talking to him through the webcam while he’s still away has been helpful. It’s still not easy, but they are making progress. Genji hadn’t given him much of a choice in the matter today. Thankfully, Genji had connected while he was decent.

_“I am sorry for the intrusion, but I didn’t think you’d be okay with the idea, so I chose to roll with it.”_

Hanzo rolls his eyes at that sentence, but only because it’s true.

Genji seems excited to tell him about anything his mind wanders onto, and Hanzo listens. The more he watches him talk, the more he’d like him to come back. He needs to see him in person, no matter how much it might make him anxious to think about. But Genji is on a mission that is taking up grand amounts of days and time. He can’t come back to the watchpoint yet, no matter how much he’d like to.

Hanzo won’t let on about how needy he feels. They’ve been talking every day almost, in one form or another. When it seems the day is going to pass without him hearing from Genji, it feels wrong. Almost like the day didn’t really happen, like is was a false reality. Sometimes it feels as if the true reality is surfacing, the harsh, cruel reality, where Genji didn’t miraculously survive.

Sometimes his reality seems far too good to be true. It’s melodramatic, and he knows it, but paranoia is a powerful force. It’s selfish that he’d let something like that get to him. As if he has any right— he shakes his head in an attempt to shoo the self-deprecating thoughts away.

Anytime he starts to think such things, he thinks about what you would say if you could hear his thoughts. He laughs softly to himself, because you’d be in for such a bad time, and so would he. Hanzo would never want to inflict such a thing on you. It’s bad enough that you have to deal with the ones he says out loud— another shake of his head, _enough!_

Genji chuckles, _“Brother, are you even listening to me anymore?”_

Hanzo snaps his attention back to the screen, “Yes, ah, no. I am sorry.”

_“Where’d your head go?”_

“Nowhere.”

_“Ha! I beg to differ, I have been talking for nearly twenty minutes. Even I am getting tired of the sound of my own voice. Tell me what is on your mind.”_

Hanzo condenses his thoughts down to one simple sentence; he was thinking about you. It’s not Genji’s job to try and make him feel better about himself, and he wouldn’t want to risk making him feel bad by even entertaining the whole truth.

Genji places both his hands underneath his chin, and leans forward towards the camera. _“So you were thinking about love? A wonderful thing to let the mind wonder to. Are things going well?”_

He nods, “I think so, yes.”

Genji sighs, and Hanzo knows that’s a response to him being short. But he doesn't feel comfortable enough yet to feel free elaborating. Even if he knows hearing about it would make Genji feel like this isn’t so one-sided.

Still, Genji continues to try. Just as he always does, _“What is she up to today? Get her in here. I’d like to meet the woman my brother loves.”_

That’s a good question. The last time he saw you, you were alongside Hana. Chatting up a veteran agent that neither of you had met yet, going by the name of Reinhardt. He had thought about joining you, but let his anxiety get the best of him, and left you to it. That was nearly three hours ago.

Just as he’s about to answer, you walk into the room and immediately start going off on a tangent. Speak of the devil.

“Okay listen,” You pause and throw up your hands, “Don’t judge me! Alright? I was in the kitchen, and I was trying, emphasis on trying. Tryin...to deep fry a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

Hanzo is absolutely judging you. And would like to question why you would want to do such a thing, but you're not stopping anytime soon. He’d also like to inform you that you’ve got an audience of two, and not just one. It seems you’ll have to figure that out the hard way.

“I tried and failed. So, in comes McCree who’s going on and on about how he knows how to properly fry things. Long story short, there’s four hundred and fifty degree oil spilling all over the floor! What I think I’m trying to say is, can you help us? Han, I don’t despise McCree anymore, but if I have to hear him tell me that frying is all about the ‘finesse’ one more time, I am going to ring his god damn neck.”

Genji chimes in, _“I don’t know why Jesse loves the word finesse so much. I don’t have the heart to tell him he can’t use it for everything. Also, did you call my brother Han? That’s adorable.”_

Your eyes grow wide, and you mouth at him, _Who the hell is that?_ Hanzo scoots over in his seat and pats the surface, indicating that he’d like you to join him. You hesitate, as if the voice might jump out and bite you.

Hanzo says your name, “Please, come meet Genji.”

Your mouth drops open, and Hanzo can swear he see’s fear in your eyes. You mouth, _Genji?_ He extends his hand out to you. You continue to hesitate, and for a moment it looks like you are going to run. To his extreme relief, you don’t. Instead, you cautiously take his hand as if it’s too hot to touch directly and sit.

You chuckle nervously, “I know I was talking a whole lot of shit there, but I swear that was nothing that McCree hasn’t already heard from me.”

Genji lets out a hardy chuckle, _“You are exactly as described!”_

You squint at Genji, “As _who described?_ Who is the one describing me?”

_“Oh, lots of people!”_

Hanzo is starting to think introducing the two of you while you’re in such a high-energy mood was a bad idea. And you’re clearly nervous, you always ramble when you're nervous. Not that he minds the mood, but he does feel a bit bad for Genji. But then again, Genji is handling it well. Why wouldn’t he be?

“No, no, no. This is important, because if I am as McCree described, then I know that’s not a good thing.”

_"Jesse's description is not the one I have in mind, though, that has gotten better as of late.”_

“Hmpf.” You divert your attention to Hanzo, “You been shit talking me?”

You get very close to his face, sporting a playful look of suspicion. He’s not sure what it is that you are trying to find, perhaps guilt or deceit, but you’re not going to find any of that. Hanzo presses his forehead up against yours and matches your expression.

“I have only said very nice things about you.”

You look back to Genji with a question in your eyes, and he says, _“It is true!”_

“Uh huh, alright.” You give him a brief kiss before standing up, “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt, so I’ll go— Oh, wait. Genji, when the hell are you coming back to base?”

Genji lets out a longing sigh, _“I have my fingers crossed for very soon.”_

“Well, it was nice meeting you. Try and stay safe, yeah?”

_“Will do. It was very nice to meet you as well. Tell Jesse I said to stop trying to ‘finesse’ frying oil.”_

Hanzo nearly wraps his arms around you in an attempt to get you to stick around. It wasn’t until you got up to leave, that he realized just how much more relaxed he had become when you entered the room. High energy and all, your presence still managed to make him feel better. He lets you go. It’s not till after the door has shut that he diverts his attention back to Genji, who’s got a mischievous on his face.

He says in a teasing tone, _“You, love, her!”_

He’s not afraid to look at Genji when he says, “I do.”

_“I am happy for you, brother.”_

“Thank you.”

Genji pauses for a moment, a clear look of thought on his face. For the first time during the video call he looks away before he speaks, _“You are not going to disappear, are you? You’ll be there when I return?”_

That stung, “Brother, I assure you I will be here.”

Since they first started to communicate again, that was the first time Hanzo had called Genji brother. He’d had never put it in any of the messages exchanged, let alone said it out loud. But it felt good, it felt right to say it. And no matter how small it was, one word, in fact, it gave Genji the comfort he needed to end the video call on a high note.

_“I believe you. I will let you go. Try to take it easy?”_

Hanzo musters up a smile; it probably looks forced, but he’s trying. “You too.”

Genji disconnects the call. Hanzo sits for a couple of minutes, his mind wondering to Genji’s surroundings. A dismal looking wearhouse, in an undisclosed location. His brother has ensured him that he was in good company. The omnic by the name of Zenyatta was assisting him in his mission. He was not alone, but something about his surroundings wasn’t sitting right with Hanzo.

Suddenly Hanzo remembers that you are no doubt back in the kitchen trying to cook with dangerously hot oil. He shoots up out of the seat and places the pup gingerly onto the bed. He commands that she stay, and she listens. The kitchen is no place for a dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can come chat with me on [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ( ˘ ³˘)❤


	9. Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana and a large group of others go away on a mission. Leaving you and Hanzo, with a small group of others behind. There are some shenanigans and then, some stuff and things happen. Here's a hug (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

The halls of the Watchpoint have been eerily quiet as of late. Most agents, save for a small group, are gone. Ana had insisted that taking more agents than necessary on their current mission could prove to be more of a weakness than a strength. Torbjorn had been one of the agents benched, but he joyfully informed everyone he will be using the time to go and visit his family. Satya also was left behind but be seems to be a person who values her alone time. You understand, so you don't bother her. McCree is also in the facility somewhere. Though he might have dipped out, as it’s been a few days since you last saw him.

It is a lovely day out. It’s the middle of fall, but the temperature is in the low sixties. The clouds keep the sun from being too harsh, and the air smells especially fresh today. Not that either you or Hanzo are paying any attention to the weather, because he’s been trying to teach you how to properly climb. Unfortunately for him, you’re not an easy student. You’ve spent a good portion of your morning using the rock climbing wall in the facility getting in practice for the real thing. Hanzo had been patient with you up until this particular moment. And even now he’s still showing a lot of restraint.

Hanzo had found a section of the facility that’s made up of different materials than the other sides. It’s got plenty of places for grip and is similar to the rock climbing wall. Before Hanzo had climbed up onto the roof, he had laid out a path for you that in his opinion is “child's play.” Now he’s on the roof looking down at you refusing to follow him up there.

“Climbing is an essential skill!”

“You’re the archer here. You gain the advantage from being up high. What do I gain from being up that high? It’s not essential for me to learn to climb.”

Hanzo looks like he’s just heard the dumbest series of sentences. He takes caution before saying anything else at the risk of coming off arrogant, “You gain safety by being up high. From enemies, such as yourself, who would be able to kill you easily on the ground. That...is what you gain.”

“Hmm, you make a good argument!”

He points to the top of the roof, “Get. Up. Here!”

“But I don’t wanna; I’m just gonna fall.”

“You will not fall. If you do this…” He sighs, “I will reward you.”

You gasp and place a hand on your chest, “Really now?”

He nods and gives you a sly smile.

You shrug, “You’d let me have it either way.”

“Do not test me!”

There’s movement on the other side of the building that catches your eye. You instantly start to cackle when you see it’s McCree, leaning around the corner, a cigarillo in his mouth, and a silly grin on his face.

“Y’all have some real odd foreplay.” He steps out from behind the wall, looks up towards Hanzo, and then back to you, “Stop bein’ a chicken. If I were you, I’d already be up there.”

“Damn, you’re right,” you say loud enough that McCree can hear you, but low enough that Hanzo can’t.   

McCree chuckles at your friendly response. You shake out your nervousness, clap your hands together, and wink at Hanzo. Hanzo thinks that is the most ridiculous sight. He’s trying to be serious with you right now, but a deep belly laugh is threatening to make him break. So he says, “Do. Not. Wink at me!”

You nearly get yourself onto the wall but wuss out at the last second. You groan, “I’m sorry!”

“There are no prizes for holding back!”

McCree is having a delightful time and thinks this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen all week. He bends over placing his elbow on his knees, the cigarillo still dangling out of his mouth, and it doesn’t look like it’s lit anymore.

He slaps his knees once and says, “Get’cher ass up there!”

Once you finally get yourself going, it’s easy. You’re currently in the best physical condition you’ve ever been in your life, and Hanzo is an excellent trainer. You make it up and over with no slip ups. McCree hoots and claps for you, and Hanzo claps along with him. Hanzo’s got a big smile for you, and that alone is well worth the climb.

“Sublime!”

McCree calls up to you guys, “Y’all have fun now!”

You try to reach out to Hanzo. You had sweet intentions, and a simple hug would have sufficed. But apparently, he was being serious about your reward. He grabs a hold of your wrist and uses it to flip you around. Hanzo presses his whole body against yours. While he’s holding your arm against your stomach, his other hand glides down into your needy space. There he massages moans and whines from you. 

He nuzzles his face into your neck as he whispers, “See? That wasn't so hard, was it?”

You grind your butt against his crotch and chuckle, “No. But something else is.”

 

*

 

You and Hanzo have been taking full advantage of having the Watchpoint nearly all to yourselves. While one of the implications of that is obvious, the other one includes getting drunk and hanging out in the mess hall. Sitting on top of the tables, eating stupid amounts of food, and playing a virtual game of chess. His tablet is sitting between the two of you, and a neat looking interactive hologram shines about a foot above it.

You’re heckling him, and you think you’re being real funny.

“Oh, no, thats’ a bad move! You shoud'n do that move, 'cause its’ a bad.”

Unlike the last time you were drunk, this time, Hanzo is on your level. He stops what he’s doing to laugh silently.

“Stop—“ When Hanzo is drunk he doesn't slur. What he does is pause and then restart again. The pausing happening more often than the restarting. “Stop— trying, to— you will not get in my head.”

“Baby, I already there. I’m jus’ doin’ you a favor. You’can mess it up if you wanna, go right ahead!”

He hangs his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking from laughter. “I—I, am, not, taking advice from, a person, who is losing.”

“Am I losin’?” You say with exaggerated disbelief. 

“Yes!” 

You shrug your shoulders, “Fine! Be my guest, I’d love teh’ see ya’ do a dumb move so, entertain me, go a-head, you have my permission.”

“Does your permission, include silence—long enough for me to do, anything?”

“I thought you said you weren’ lettin’ me in your head!”

“I would not be, if you, were, not—such, a heathen!”

You lay back onto the table, laughing and holding onto your side. You couldn’t care less about the chess game. Hanzo doesn’t care either, but he does enjoy playfully arguing with you.

“You’know that's probly’ hurtful!”

The chess game never does get a victor. It’s easily forgotten, and you end up with your head lazily resting against his shoulder. You might be ready to pass out, but you’re enjoying the sight of the dragons and the pup playing far too much to close your eyes just yet. Right now, even the stern one is jumping around, chirping, and having a grand ol’ time.

You muse, “It feels really nice teh’ see that one hav’in fun.”

Hanzo is engrossed in something on his tablet. He puts it down, so he can look at what you’re talking about. When he does, you just happen to see that he is sending a message to Genji.

“Oh, no, no, no!”

You snatch the tablet and lift your butt up, so you can sit on it. It takes far too many moments for Hanzo to even process what happened. After a couple of false started sentences, he manages to get out, “Give, it back.”

“M’ not gonna let you send any sad, ass, drunk messages to ya’ brother, its’ not happen.”

He gently pats your cheek, “You are, talking, like an idiot.”

You cackle, “Ive’ been talkin’ like n’ idiot this whole time! You now only jus’ noticed!”    

Hanzo rests his forehead against your temple, “It is, not sad— you can read it, and approve of it, if you wish.”

You do wish, as you don’t believe him. So you pull the tablet out and look the message over. He wasn’t lying to you. Nothing about the message is sad. Nonsensical? A ramble with good grammar? Yes, but not sad. You approve of the message and let him send it. Genji will no doubt have fun with that one. Hell, he might even love it.

Hanzo hiccups so harshly that he as to clutch his chest and groans. “Oh, I think it, might be time to go to bed.”

 

*

 

Another day goes by, and the night comes around. Initially, Hanzo had gone to bed with you. One of the things Angela has taught you is that routine is essential for a healthy sleep schedule. And one of the things that has always been consistent is Hanzo. So when he leaves the bed, it doesn't take long for your body and mind to notice, and consequentially  you wake up.

At first, you are so sleep-ridden  that you don’t notice why you woke. But then you feel a familiar cold sensation against your back, and your interest is peaked. You look behind you to see the still nameless, stern dragon staring you down. Your immediate reaction is to look around the room for Hanzo, who is nowhere to be found. Your heart starts to race, because something feels off.

You sit up and look the dragon right in the face, “Please take me to him.”

The dragon lets off a soft chirp and nods. It leaps off the bed and leads you out of the room. It gingerly trots down the halls, stopping every once in a while to make sure you are still following. Eventually, the dragon leads you into the briefing room, where Hanzo is sitting at a computer terminal. You softly say his name, and when he looks back at you, he doesn’t look guilty or shocked that you’ve stumbled upon him. Hanzo knew that the dragon would lead you here. In fact, he is grateful that it happened sooner than later. He needs your advice on something that is of great importance to him.

“I would like to preface with, this might sound… ludicrous.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“I am trying to find Genji’s location.” You nod, and he continues, “I think he might be in trouble. I have no tangible evidence. Other than...he has not communicated with me since last night. This is mostly based off of a feeling, but it is a strong one.”

He stops and looks at you waiting for your input, “Okay. So what are we doing about it?”

The only way to explain the expression on his face is that it is one of pure admiration and gratitude. He looks back towards the computer, “Do you know anything about hacking? I am not having much luck.”

You don’t, but you’ll try your hardest. “Move over.”

While you are trying to hack into the mission files, a familiar voice breaks through the concentration.

“What the hell are y’all doin’? Y’all were loud as hell last night, and now ur’ in here doin’ god knows what! What the fuck is goin’ on in here?”

You don’t know it yet, but McCree is wide awake for very similar reasons. The exact same reasons, in fact. McCree, who also communicates with Genji every single day, hasn’t heard from him, and it’s keeping him awake. Hanzo’s feelings must be severe, because he doesn't waste any time letting McCree know the exact truth, unafraid of any judgment.

McCree actually stumbles back, shocked that Hanzo is putting into words exactly what he is worried about, “I know where he’s at.”

Hanzo shoots up out of his seat, “Tell me!”

“I will, but I’m comin’ with you guys. You can’t stop me.”

“I was not going to try to.”

Neither were you. McCree lets the both of you know where Genji is at, and why he is there. You’d question why McCree knows so much and whether he’s actually supposed to know these things, but neither answer would really matter. Genji and Zenyatta have been tasked with “curing” some feral omnics. There is a wear house full of the things.

They all got inflicted with a nasty virus during the war, as a means to turn them against their own allies. They’re all wound up tighter than a spring and ready to tear anything apart that dares cross their path. Genji and Zenyatta have been tirelessly trying to figure out a solution to the problem that doesn't include putting them out of commission. The last time McCree heard it wasn’t going well, and was reaching a point where they’d need to make a hard decision.

The three of you are going to be in big trouble, not that even one of you is worried about this fact. McCree knows how to fly, so you borrow a aircraft and make your way out in the dead of night. Absolutely no one's permission was asked to do this. Ana, and the others, will all be coming back by early evening, and there is no way in hell you guys will make it back in time for Ana to not know that you left. It doesn't matter, however, because you’re all more than willing to deal with the consequences.

With such a high-tech plane at hand, you guys arrive at your destination in little over an hour. McCree lands the plane a safe distance away from the warehouse, and it only takes about fifteen minutes to get there on foot.

You guys stop just short of the facility and duck behind some bushes. You’ve got your harness and are ready to release the bots, so you do. You’re gawking at the warehouse, because it looks like it came right out of a horror movie. It’s dismal, run-down, and looks haunted. 

Momentarily, you split up so you guys can find the best way into the building faster. The building is oddly structured. You find yourself at a wall that leads up to a ledge with a heavy duty sliding metal door, so you make your way up it.

“Hey guys, I found an entrance. I’ll  see if it goes anywhere useful real quick. Northwest side of the building, make sure to look up.”

Hanzo, _“On my way.”_

McCree, _“Y’all I think I might’ve found Zen. Not too sure, I’ma investigate.”_

“Copy that.”

The door is open, but not by a lot. You can shimmy your way through it and see where it goes. But with your harness on, you won't fit. So you take it off and hold it in front of you as you shimmy your way through the small space. Not only is the door tall, but it turns out it’s extremely thick. When you’re about halfway through, you remember, and chastise yourself, for telling two broad-shouldered dudes to come here, to a space they clearly won't fit through. Still, you continue. Maybe it’s a door you can get to open up more.

As you get closer to what seems to be the end, it gets darker and darker. This is a foolish mistake, but at the end, you throw the harness, just so you can have a little more freedom of movement. You think it will be easy to get it back, but it won’t be. When the harness hits the floor you hear many loud hisses of hostility towards it. This makes you pause for a lengthy amount of time. Whatever is making that noise doesn't sound in any way friendly or like anything you want to deal with.

You’re not going to have a choice in the matter. One misplaced step sends you tumbling onto an unforgiving concrete floor. The things that hissed at the harness are now hissing at you. You remain as still as possible, every muscle in your body cramping up with fear. Lucky for you, the things that are surrounding you on all sides go back to their neutral state.

It takes you nearly fifteen minutes to stand up. Hanzo is sounding off in your ear, letting you know that he is here, but cannot get through the space, just as you had thought. However, you’re too afraid to speak, thinking that any noise is going to set off the things around you. The bots have provided you with a helpful night vision. And you can see that you are standing amongst the hundreds of feral omnics that Genji and Zenyatta have been trying to help.

You don’t know what the hell you are supposed to do next. Hanzo is desperately trying to get you to talk to him. It’s breaking your heart, but you are still so scared. Then things get worse. Much, much worse. An all too familiar black smoke catches your eye.

Stress tears start to form in your eyes. If the Reaper is here, then you are fucked. How are you supposed to deal with him and hundreds of feral omnics? The Reaper ghosts behind you and wraps a tentacle of smoke around your neck. An overwhelming feeling of bile bubbles up in your belly. The Reaper isn’t trying to kill you. That’s not how he wants it to happen, as he’s got bigger, more creative plans for that.

He whispers into your ear, “I think friendly fire is one of the most tragic ways to go, don’t you think?”

He hums in your ear, and it makes you feel even sicker. Then he leaves. Just like that, he goes. Doesn't do a thing to you. Leaving you to contemplate what the fuck he was talking about.

Suddenly a bright light shines from above, and the omnics are not happy about this at all. It's coming from yet another door that is placed unreasonably high up. How is anyone expected to be able to leave this room? Maybe that’s the point of its design, nobody is supposed to be able to leave. You look up to see an unfamiliar woman. She’s got Genji hooked under her arms, and she’s getting ready to drop him amidst all the beings he’s been trying to help.

She lets him fall hard onto the floor, and he hits with a loud reverberating smack. That’s enough to give you the nerve you need to speak up. Your voice is quiet, so quiet you’re surprised either of them can hear you.

“Genji is here. He’s here, he’s hurt, and we’re in trouble.”

Hanzo sighs heavily, _“I will find a different way in.”_

You would have liked to tell him good luck, but as the very first syllable comes out of your mouth, an omnic snaps it’s attention to you, stealing away any other words you have for Hanzo.

Genji is horribly mangled. Large parts of him are missing. An arm and a leg are just gone. The woman then throws a katana down after him, and it drops onto the floor just shy of Genji’s face. The omnics are starting to lose it. With the light, you can see clearly that they are caked over with rust and dirt. They are so dirty that they look nearly pitch black and look a hell of a lot like you.   

It instantly clicks that this is extremely bad for you. You get yourself moving, taking extremely careful steps, making sure you don’t disturb any of the omnics. You’re going to have to chance talking loud enough, so that Genji can hear you. He needs to know that you're here. Just as you are about to call out to Genji, a loud blaring noise sounds off. It sends the omnics into absolute madness, and the only clear target they have to throw their aggression at is Genji, who is still illuminated by  the cruel and harsh light. You know he can’t hear you, but still, you call out his name.

As the omnics advance on him, you try your damnedest to make your way through the fray. But the more you push and shove, the more they realize that you, too, are a threat to them. So they start to tug and pull at your limbs, hell bent on tearing you apart, and God does it hurt. They are much stronger than you'd ever hope to be, and no matter how much you use your close quarters' skills to try and get away from them, nothing works. When you get one off of you, another is latching on. You narrowly avoid getting your arms and legs pulled from their sockets. 

You look to Genij, who is now desperately trying to reach for his sword, but he can’t get to it. Several of the omnics have reached him and are trying to do the same thing to him that they are doing to you. With the katana still laying out of reach, you watch as an enormous dragon pulls itself from it. Brilliant, just as breathtaking and magnificent as Hanzo’s on the beach. But this one is a bright green color that is nearly blinding in such a closed space. Every omnic that it tears its way through, melts and sizzles, all of their wires and parts liquefying into terrifying pools on the ground.

Due to the loud and powerful dragon that is careening its way towards them, the omnics let you go, now focused on something much more threatening than you are. It dawns on you in a terrible wave of terror that you’re not going to be spared its wrath. This is exactly what the Reaper wants. It would seem he’d like you all to die in the most heart-wrenching ways possible. You take this opportunity to do the only thing that might save your life, you run. This dragon doesn't know you, and as it's decimating the omnics, it’s obvious that your bots have no chance at protecting you from it.

The loud blaring noise that sent the omnics into their extreme aggression has ceased. Now you are left with the unrelenting roaring of a dragon who will do anything to protect its master, and the mad screeching of hundreds of livid, dying omnics.

You find yourself down a hall, pushing yourself past even more of the omnics. This hall has an end, with a wall that is smooth and unclimbable. The roaring continues and will reach you soon. With your back pressed up against the dead end, the bots make a last ditch attempt to save your life. They retreat, faster than they ever have before. They think that perhaps if the dragon can see that you are human, it will let you live.

Hot tears run down your face. You don’t want to die, but it seems you're not going to have a choice in the matter. You slide down the smooth surface and close your eyes tight, preparing yourself for immense pain. The powerful roar is overwhelming now, so loud you think your ears might start to bleed. The creature is merely a couple of feet away from you now. That cliche notion that life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s true.

Your world falls into deafening silence, and for a moment you think you must be in the afterlife. But once the blood starts to clear from your ears, you realize you can still feel your heart beating.

_Chirp! Chirp!_

Your whole entire body is shaking, and you can’t believe what you are hearing.

_Chirp! Chirp!_

You’re  too afraid to open your eyes. Like perhaps you might be in a suspended state, and the enormous deadly creature is still getting ready to melt the flesh from your body.

_Chirp! Chirp!_

You managed to peel your eyes open. Sitting there, slamming its tail against the floor in a fervent fashion, is a medium, dog-sized dragon, with the same friendly demeanor as the ones you are more familiar with. Except this one is desperately trying to get you to follow it. When it sees that it has your attention it starts to jump around, slamming its front paws into the ground, and starts to chirp incessantly. 

It’s obvious what it’s trying to get you to do. The problem is you can’t feel your body at the moment. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, all while the creature is still yelling at you. Hanzo and McCree have been talking to you this whole entire time and still are. It’s only now that your psyche has let their voices register again.

McCree, _“Come on now friend, you gotta talk to us! Ya’ better not do this shit.”_

Your throat is dry, making you sound hoarse, “I’m not dead." 

Hanzo is trying his best not to be upset, but you can still hear in his voice that he is angry. You understand; he’s allowed to be, _“Was that a dragon?”_

Oh, so they could hear the carnage. “Yes, it was,” you refrain from telling him how close you came to being a victim of the dragon's wrath. “I think we’re safe for right now. I’ll figure out a way out of here. McCree, did you find Zenyatta?”

McCree, “ _Yeah I found the Zen. He ain’t in good shape neither. Gonna need lots’a new parts.”_

The first time you get up, you fall right back onto the floor. Your legs feel like shaky jello. The dragon hops around you, unrelenting in its pursuit to try and get you to follow it. The second time you get up, you manage to stay on your feet. As you follow the dragon, it stops several times to make sure you aren't going to walk over any of the piles of goo on the floor. It wants you to follow its exact path.

You do. You let it guide you to exactly where you need to be. As you approach Genji, he is slumped against the wall, his head rolled over to the side.

Hanzo sounds winded, and is that pain in his voice? “ _I am having setbacks, I will be there shortly._ ”

“Hanzo just take care of yourself. We’re not in danger anymore. We’ll manage, just meet us back at the aircraft.”

“ _Are you absolutely sure?_ ”

“Yes, I’m positive.” 

Every time the comm would buzz, you could hear gun shots. The Reaper and that woman must be giving him hell. The dragon takes a seat next to its master and cocks its head from side to the side. You kneel down in front of him, “Genji? Hey bud, you awake?”

You need him to be awake. He’s still got one good leg, and that’ll be enough to help you get him the hell out of here. His eyes flutter open, and the man smiles.

“I sure hope I am not dead. It would be tragic if you’re here too.”

Ridiculous, “This look like the afterlife to you?”

He shrugs, “Only the dead know what it really looks like.”

“Alright, Plato, you’re not dead okay?”

“Ah, happy to hear it.”

“You ready to get the hell outa dodge?”

“Yes, but my friend—.”

“Zenyatta? The cowboy already got him. We’re good to go.”

Genji chuckles, “Alright, then. Let's get out of here.” 

Before you help him up, you ask him, “Are you in any pain?”

“No. My mind is weary, and so is my soul, but I am not in pain.”

You actually have no idea how to get out of this room. Your mind snaps back to how you told Hanzo you didn't need any help. Why the hell did you do that? Lucky for you, the dragon has got it handled. It’s chirping and hopping in a corner of the room. Before getting Genji, you check what it's trying to point out to you.

The dragon is showing you a vent. It's low to the ground and rusted over, but you’re able to kick  it in with little effort. It's not exactly big, but you’ll both manage. You let Hanzo know that it might take a while for you guys to make it out of the building, because Genji can only move so fast right now.

As you’re helping Genji get to where he needs to be, you can see the look on his face shift as he takes in the hundreds of piles of what used to be the feral omnics. You can only imagine how he must be feeling. Seeing all of the things he had been trying to save, ruined, by his own dragon. You’d try and make him feel better about it. It’s not his fault; it’s the Reapers, but now's really not the time. And you’re not the right person for that job, anyway.

Getting through the vent is nearly comical. Actually, it is. You knock your head against all four sides trying to look back to see how Genji is fairing. And Genji is not fairing well, because only one of his arms is fully functional, while the other is barely helpful. Every once in a while Hanzo will ask, in a shockingly mellow tone, for a status update, and you always simply state, “Still in the vent.”

Then you have the brilliant idea that if you shimmied ahead a little bit, he could reach out, grab your ankle, and pull himself forward. Without any grip for you to hang on to, what happened instead, is that he just ended up pulling you back. So you're back where you started, and he didn’t move an inch. It feels like it takes an hour to finally make it out the other side. In reality, it only took twenty minutes, but still, that's a long time.

Hanzo, “ _The Reaper, and the sniper have retreated. Still, take caution when getting to the aircraft._ ”

“Got it. We’re finally out of the vent and on our way.”

You both make it back safely. As you approach, Hanzo is standing in the open hangar, on high alert, bow in hand, and an arrow ready. When he sees you, he throws the bow onto the ground and helps you get Genji into the craft faster. McCree is looming over an omnic you are assuming to be Zenyatta. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d need new parts, and he doesn’t seem to be conscious.   


When McCree looks back to see Genji his eyes light up with an assortment of emotions. God, he is happy to see him, but he’s also fighting heavy sorrow, due to the terrible shape he is in. When you set Genji down, McCree is already at his side, “Hey partner, what’n the hell you get yourself into huh?” 

Hanzo’s attention is fixed on Genji. Seeing him in person again after so long, and in such dismal conditions, seems to be taking a toll. Except, there is something more there in his facial expression that makes your stomach drop.

“Han? Are you okay?”

He nods.

That a lie, and you know it. “Jesse, I’m really not trying to be insensitive, but we need to get going.”

“Na, your’ right. We’ll have plenty’a time to caught up once wer' safe.”

You don’t see Jesse give Genji a quick kiss on the forehead, before he hops up to go get the aircraft going. You’re too focused on Hanzo, quickly inspecting him for the cause of the ill look. It doesn't take you long to find it: a deep dark red spot that runs down the length of his clothes on his right side. You place a hand on his chest as you lift up the cloth to reveal a bullet wound.

“Oh, my—Hanzo! Sit down, right now!” You help guide him onto the floor, you’re suddenly very upset with him, “What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you not tell me you got shot.” With more quiet volition, “Why would you keep this from us?”

No answer.  

Genji tries to get up, but can’t. “Where brother?”

Hanzo doesn't answer, so you answer for him, “His back, close to his lungs.”

You leave Hanzo sitting on the ground to go find medical supplies. He must be in shock, has to be in shock, there’s no way he would deliberately hide such a life-threatening wound on purpose. You’re in denial, and refuse to believe that. It hurts too much to think so. You’re going to have to deal with the truth of the matter later.

As you’re gathering heaps of gauze, and dressings you tell Jesse, “Hey we need to get in contact with Ana, let her know Hanzo’s hurt so Dr. Zeigler can—“

“Already did friend, she’s been tryna’ get ahold of us this whole time, she got notified the moment we took the aircraft fer'a joy ride. We’re in for one hell’of’a tongue lashin’.”

You don’t give a fuck about getting chewed out right now. All you want to know is that someone will be there to help Hanzo at the base. Hanzo’s finally taken some initiative, he’s removed his sleeve before you got back, so that you have clear access to his wound. Your heart is racing. To the eye, it doesn't look all that bad. But this is bringing you back to that truck bed with the little boy you couldn’t save. As always there is only so much you can do, and right now all you can do is dress his wound and apply pressure to keep it from bleeding any more than it already has.

If he’s got an injury on the inside, like a damaged organ, or internal bleeding; then you can’t, you wouldn’t be able to…

You rest your forehead up against his shoulder blade, and shut your eyes tight. Your heart is breaking, and you’re trying to keep yourself from being angry. Your eyes are threatening to let the tears fall again. You’ve got your palm firmly pressed against the wound. If Hanzo’s in pain he’s not letting it show. You’ll keep the pressure as long as you have to.

Your left leg is thrown out next to him, Hanzo places a hand on your knee, his grip isn't strong, but it’s still enough to help you believe that he’s going to be okay.

Genji says your name, “Has my brother ever told you any stories about our childhood?”

“A few.” Your words have an unwanted crack in them, but it was all that you could manage.

“Hmpf! Let me tell you about this one time, when we were very young; Hanzo? You must have been, ten? Me, seven? Surely you remember the time—” Genji has a hard time telling the story, because he has to stop to laugh between segments, “We were watching a movie in a theatre, and Hanzo, you, you— you burped so loud that the lady— the lady in front of us,” Genji says your name to ensure that you are still listening. “I am telling you, the lady in front of us smacked her husband on the back of the head so hard, he lifted up out of his seat, cause she thought it came from him!”

Hanzo finishes with, “They got into such a heated argument they had to leave, heh.”

Jesse chimes in, “How come ya’ never told me that one Genji?”

“Some stories are best told with the person they happened with.”

Hanzo laughs weakly, “We had far too much soda that day.”

“Well, it was the appropriate amount for two kids who were having a burping contest, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it was.” 

“Fortunately for our own entertainment, some of it chose to stick with you, unfortunate, for that man and his wife.”

Nobody in this aircraft is in a good place. Some are worried, while others are torn apart or hurt. Genji insists on telling more stories, and you are grateful. You understand what he’s doing, and will have to remember to thank him later. Getting back to the Watchpoint is easy. Everyone is already back, and Ana is waiting for you guys in the hangar.   


The doctor gets straight to work on helping Hanzo. Genji and Zenyatta are crippled but they will survive without immediate help, Hanzo will not. She is appalled by the number of people who are in her infirmary, and only allows a couple people to stay to assist. You are vehemently told you will not be one of them. At least before you leave she tries to assure you that Hanzo will be okay, it could have been far worse. You believe her, but it doesn't make you feel any better. 

Ana gives those who are able to listen to her a tongue lashing like you’ve never received before. You could push back on her words. There are plenty of reasons why you guys were justified in leaving, but really you don't have the energy, or the gusto to argue back. All of your brain power is so caught up in stressing over Hanzo, that it doesn’t even hurt that she’s pissed. In fact, it’s a welcome distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/) ( ˘ ³˘)❤


	10. Making Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of stuff gets resolved, and then there's some bonding time. I promise the whole chapter is not angst-ridden just bear with me, there's a lot of fluff too. (> ^_^ )>.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

_ Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, out the mouth. _

You’ve tried to find the most secluded part of the facility to try and not have a mental break down in. It’s not going that well for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this level of stress and worry. Along with a different kind of emotional hurt that you’ve never felt before. A deep and heavy sob is threatening to rip itself from your chest, and you're fighting it with every bit of willpower you’ve got left. You shouldn't fight it; you'll feel better after letting it out, but you're stubborn. 

Alas, your emotions are out of your control, and you start to sob despite having tried so hard to keep it from happening. With your thighs pulled up against your chest, you bury your face into your knees and just let it happen.

“Hey friend, you mind if I join ya?” 

Apparently, this spot isn’t secluded enough. Either that or he was trying to find you. Your eyes snap open. Jesse is standing a safe distance away from you, actually waiting for your permission, and won’t sit until you say it’s okay.

“Leave me alone, Jesse.”

Jesse huffs, “I think I can handle whatever it is that’s got your jimmies so rustled.”

You scowl at him, “My jimmies? Are you serious?”  ****

“Yeah! I’m bein serious.” He pauses so he can pull a handkerchief from his pocket and steps close enough so he can hand it to you, “Ya’know he’s in the best hands possible.”

You stare at the handkerchief like it’s a venomous snake, coiled, and ready to lurch at you. ****

“I know that.”

Jesse frowns, “Would’ya take the fuckin thing? Your face is a mess.”

You take it from him and look away while you clean up your face.

“You should give talkin to me a chance; I might not disappoint ya.”

Fine. You point to the floor next to you, your way of giving him permission to sit.

“Did Hanzo let you know he got hurt? Or were you there when he got shot?”

Jesse furrows his eyebrows, “That’s gonna be a double negative.” He sits down and starts to connect the dots, “He didn’t let us know, did he?”

“Why would he do that? Why would he not tell you or me, the _moment_ he got shot, or that he was hurt?”

“Ah, I see, that is strange isn't it.”

“Strange is an understatement.”

“I reckon, and this is just some speculation on my part, that maybe, it’s cause he’s still fightin with his demons.”

All you can do is hum nervously and shake your head. You really don’t understand. Or maybe you do. It's just hard to get past the denial, and you need more convincing. 

Jesse is trying to be especially careful with his words, “No matter how much’cha love somebody, unfortunately, friend, ya can’t love their demons away. Trust me, I know from experience.” 

“Hmm.” You get what he’s saying now. He’s right, even if you wish that wasn’t true. If only things could be that easy. You’re not sure what to do with the information, and Jesse can sense that.

He continues in an even more careful tone now, “I just think he could use a little bit’a help. Some uh, guidance, ya know? From somebody who knows what they’re doin.” 

You agree. Now you just have to figure out how to put your own words together. How to talk to Hanzo about this without coming off angry and judgmental. That’s enough talking about this with anybody other than Hanzo; you don’t want to talk about Hanzo behind his back any more than you already have. So you would like to change the subject.

You tell Jesse thank you for the wisdom and then change the subject to Ana, “She still pissed at us? If I’m being really honest, I don't think I remember even half of what she was going off about.”

Jesse shrugs, “She’ll forgive us. I understand where she’s comin from. We coulda let her know we were leavin. She wouldna stopped us, wouldna told us no. We’re suppose’ta be a team around here, and leavin under a vale’a silence was very unteam like of us.”

“Huh, yeah. We sure didn’t stop to think about that did we?”

Jesse chuckles, “We sure as hell didn’t. You would’a thought at least one of us would’a stopped and thought, hmm, maybe we should at least leave’a note er somethin.” 

Dr. Zeigler walks around the corner and finds both of the people she wanted to talk to, “Ah, Jesse. We’re moving Genji into a different location, and I could actually use some of your help with him.”

Then she turns her attention to you, “You can visit with Hanzo. He’s stable and awake. I’d like him to stay in the infirmary for a night or two. He needs to rest, though, so no funny business.” 

What a ridiculous thing to demand of you at this current moment. Though if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Angela, it’s that she’s not good at picking up on vibes. So you don’t hold it against her. You quietly thank her and wait for them to disappear.

You sit there for couple more moments just trying to get some of the fog to clear from your brain. Even after you are able to get yourself up and moving, it’s still not enough to get yourself to walk through the infirmary door. You stand just outside it, giving yourself a stern talking to.

You have to handle this well. This is a test, and a big one that you can not fail. It’s going to be hard. Your feelings are hurt, and you've got a lot of emotional comfort invested in this asshole. ****

_ Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. _

You walk through the door. There he is, in a hospital bed, wrapped in up in medical dressings around his torso, and an IV dripping blood into his veins. He looks tired, the normal glowing sheen that usually accompanies his skin is not there right now. You take a seat on the edge of the bed. 

Hanzo won’t look at you. He seems ashamed, is ashamed. With a clear mind, that’s not flooded with bad stress, he realizes that he was being irrational and acting on intrusive thoughts. He can only hope that you’ll forgive him. What a terribly impulsive, self-destructive decision. But the truth is he’d been making those same kind of self-destructive decisions for nearly a decade.  Even the most harmless of bad habits are hard to break. So it's going to be a little hard to break the bad coping mechanism he's had for years now, and he’s lucky it hasn't killed him yet.

“I’m not going to ask you why you didn't say anything, why you were just letting yourself bleed out. Jesse could have been helping you long before me and Genji got back. I’m not stupid, and I think I already know why.”

From the moment he had heard that Genji was hurt, it had started to feel like a downward spiral. Your description of him over the comm hadn’t nearly given justice to just how bad he looked. Seeing Zenyatta in the same kind of shape, the omnic that helped his brother comes to terms with what he had done to him, with his new body, and a new way of living. All those moments when he couldn’t get you to talk to him. When that dragon’s roar was all he could focus on, and somehow he knew something terrible was threatening to happen. He knows it's not his fault, yet it still felt that way, and still kind of does.

Hanzo says quietly, “I should have known sooner.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should have known that my brother was in trouble sooner. Maybe then, things would not have gone so poorly.”

“There you go with the what if’s again. Besides, how the hell were you supposed to know sooner?”

“If our connection was not so broken. The dragons could have communicated.” 

**** “So, what? Is bleeding out supposed to be your fucking penance for that!” You throw up your hands. _Breath in through the mouth, out through the nose._ Wait, no, that's not right.  “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to yell at you.”

You’ve got too much nervous energy to sit. So you hop up off the bed, and Hanzo nearly tries to get up after you. He wishes he could just promise that this will not happen again. But he already knows you wouldn’t believe him, nor does he really believe himself when he thinks that. So he refrains from blatantly lying to you. 

“Do not go. I am sorry, this is just… who I am.”

Now you look at him, “I’m not  _leaving_ , and that’s bull shit. Just because you can’t help those thoughts doesn't mean it's who you are. They don’t define you as a person. There’s more to you than just that, so stop it.” 

**** The last part of that sentence was childish, sounded childish, and you don't care. 

“Do you truly believe that.”

“Yes. I do.”

If only your commands could wield enough power to make such things go away. Hanzo understands what you're saying but couldn't possibly begin to figure out how to make this better, “What I am I to do about it.”

“Get some help. From someone who can give you the guidance you need to combat those impulses when they arise.”

That sounds nearly impossible, “I do not know if anyone could.” 

You get close to him your face inches from his, “I think you mean, you don’t know if you’d be willing to try. Hanzo, I will not allow you to let me love you this much if you plan on dying out in the field. You have to try." 

Hanzo looks pained and is struggling to find words, “How do you expect me to let a stranger help with this?”

You don’t know how to answer that question so you continue to try and beg, “If you get help, I’ll get help. I’d be full of shit if I said I couldn’t use it.”

Hanzo looks away from you, still refusing to even say he’ll try. This is critical. As you're not sure if you can do this, any of this, if he refuses to get the guidance he needs. You wouldn't be able to focus on missions, keep an alert and clear head, if you're constantly worried that Hanzo might get hurt, and not report it again. Then your mind starts to spiral. You couldn’t leave, can’t give up on him, even if he refused. What kind of person would that make you? And who would look after him? Besides all of those points, you love him, you'd miss him, and it kills you to even think about walking away from something with so much promise... 

“Alright, I will try asking for help. Even if it feels… ignominious.” 

Your eyes roll. You’d argue against that last statement, but you’re just relieved that he’s up for the prospect of even trying. Even if he thinks it’s something as ridiculous as,  _embarrassing_. Then you correct yourself. No, it’s not ridiculous, not coming from a person with his background.

Hanzo reaches out and wipes tears away from your cheeks. Tears you weren’t even aware had escaped, “I am sorry for causing you so much distress. Please do not give up on me.” 

**** A wave of guilt floods your body, before a flood of relief replaces it. Could he sense your desperation? He must have. Then again, how could he not have? Right now it’s just words, just a promise, but it’ll have to do. And you’ll have to have faith in him.

“I think I’m in far too deep to ever be able to do that.” 

**** He smiles meekly, “Would it make you feel better to know I feel the same?”

You plop down onto the bed and playfully say, “Maybe.”

He takes a hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles, your palm, and your wrist. He holds your hand against his face and whispers, “I love you.”

No more crying goddamnit, “I love you too.” 

**** A deep and almost musical voice comes from the back of the room, “I am most delighted to hear such calm resolutions!”

Despite the voice sounding pleasant and non-threatening, you and Hanzo both nearly jump out of your skin. You look behind you, searching the room for the source of the voice.

“Hello?”

“Greetings! If you would be so kind, I was wondering, if perhaps you could tell me if my student is doing well?”

You gently pull back the curtain that surrounds a bed at the back of the room. On this bed lies Zenyatta, who is attached to many wires and still not looking quite whole yet.

“I think you’re talking about Genji? He’s fine; he’s just getting fixed up right now.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you.” 

You introduce yourself. Normally you wouldn’t introduce Hanzo for him, but right now it seems appropriate. When you do so, Zenyatta already knows  whohe is. Of course, he does.

“Hanzo! Yes, I know you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Same to you.”

“I apologize for not having interjected earlier than I did, but I felt it was best for the two of you to come to your own conclusions before I interjected.”   

The thought, ‘Shouldn't you be mad this guy was eavesdropping?’ crosses your mind.  But the thing is your not, it’s as if the omnic was meant to hear the conversation, “What do you mean?”

“I would be happy and privileged to help the both of you in your journey to mental enlightenment. I do believe I am more than qualified to do so. I am not trying to come off as arrogant, just confident. I strongly believe I can help you reach better mental clarity.” He raises one of his arms in an excited manner, “My student can vouch for my qualifications! Please, ask him.”

Whatever it is about Zenyatta that gives off an aura of calm and kindness makes you believe him, and you don't really feel the need to check with Genji. Hanzo has heard plenty about the omnic from his brother and is actually shocked he didn't think to make the suggestion himself. It’s understandable that such a thing would slip his mind while he’s hurt and also trying to fight the idea itself altogether. This is as ideal as this could get. Hanzo has heard so much about Zenyatta, that he doesn't feel like a complete stranger to him. The idea still doesn't sit comfortably yet. But yes, if Zenyatta is willing to try and help him, then he can certainly try and let him.

 

*

 

It's been nearly a week since Zenyatta has been back up and running. He's taken the time to stop and catch up with each and every one of his friends. He is delighted to see his best friend and student Genji back to his optimal shape. And he's feeling even more delighted and privileged to have both his brother and him sitting on either side of him meditating before they get into a session of much-needed guidance and enlightenment.

As Hanzo is only human, he hasn't fully recovered, but he can tell that he is doing well. Zenyatta has always been able to see what people call auras, though, to him, it's more of a sense than a thing he actually sees. Hanzo is not nearly as helpless as he thinks he is, and Zenyatta is even more confident still that these sessions will do wonders for him. Hanzo is already good with discipline. He just needs fine tuning and more mental convergence. Zenyatta has never met a hopeless cause, and Hanzo is far, far from that. 

Zenyatta is deep into his meditation. Most days he finds it easy to slip into a place of tranquility. Though today, he is about to be tested.

Genji grumbles, "You know brother you don't need to not wear a shirt all the time.” 

He is shocked that Genji isn’t more focused. Zenyatta knows he’s more than capable. Perhaps he is more nervous than he is letting on.

Hanzo grumbles back, ”Says the person who never wears anything at all.” 

**** “I think that’s hardly the same thing.” 

Hanzo sighs, ”If you must know, the cloth feels heavy on my wound. It catches on the dressings, and it is uncomfortable." 

"Uh huh. Just because I haven't been around here, doesn't mean there aren’t people I can't ask to see if you wear a shirt on a regular basis."

Hanzo opens his eyes and slaps his knees, "Why does this matter?"

Genji says with a purposeful overdramatic  inflection, “Cause I do not appreciate you lying to me brother."

As with most situations of conflict, Zenyatta is patiently waiting to see if this will resolve itself. Though he will soon realize that even with two adult men, who on a regular basis are more than capable of being mature, will regress to childlike unresolvable quarrels when in the presence of a sibling. He listens as Genji threatens to go to you for information. 

"Do not bring her into this nonsense!"

"Oh, I wonder why! Huh? Cause she knows the truth! Your no-shirt-judging truth!"

Zenyatta sighs as they continue to bicker with each other, "My students! Please. Just, chill out."

"I am not the one being immature,” Hanzo says as he stares Genji down.

"I'm going to find out your truth brother."

“Dramatic. There is nothing to find out.“ 

Zenyatta hums, “Perhaps this is a quarrel that can be resolved at a later time?”

Genji laughs, “I am just messing with him Master, but now I’m intrigued. What is the truth?”

“I wear clothes. You truly think I walk around here trying to look like a tool?” 

A sly grin spreads across Genji’s face, “You are making this far too easy for me.”

Hanzo points to Zenyatta, “Your Master is wearing pants, and yet you are not. Please explain that to me.”  

They continue to bicker about the proper etiquette surrounding wearing, and not wearing, certain items of clothing or none at all. Zenyatta is about to break out his conflict resolution skills, when something occurs to him. They are actually having fun. Amusing themselves by arguing over something trivial. In turn, it’s making them more at ease than the actual meditation is.

So he puts his hands into his lap, lets his orbs float mindlessly around him while he observes the display of sibling banter, and tries to gather a better understanding for future sessions. Not to mention, he is rather entertained. 

 

*

 

Hanzo sits in his room, practicing some of the tranquility exercises Zenyatta had asked him to get more acquainted with. He had asked, with a little bit of shame, if music would be appropriate during these exercises. Zenyatta had informed him that whatever he needs to do to achieve deeper states would be appropriate. Music can be therapeutic and calming. Music taps into human emotions and can improve focus and impulse control. So Zenyatta highly recommends that he use it.

He’s got his earbuds in, sitting cross-legged in a computer chair.  It’s nothing especially comfortable, but Hanzo finds it to be perfect for his task at hand. He's not sure how much time passes, before he opens his eyes and starts to roll his shoulders. He almost falls out of his seat, because you're sitting on the bed in front of him, in the same stance, and he has no idea when you got here. You look endearing and casual. Wearing no pants, navy blue underwear, and a simple t-shirt. He removes the earbuds and gently places them on the desk.

You open one eye to look at him briefly before closing it again, "This is really difficult, I just keep thinking about food. I'm not even hungry." 

"That is not so bad. A harmless thing to think about. Truthfully I thought about food a lot, but I am hungry.”

“Of course you’re hungry.” Your eyes remain closed, “Are things going well?”

While you’re not explicit about what you’re asking about, he knows. “Yes, and much better than I had anticipated.”

“Does it feel like something you can stick with?“

“Absolutely. Zenyatta has a better way with words and meditation than anyone I have ever met. Nearly every piece of guidance he gives is… clarifying.”

He hadn’t realized it before, but you were holding your breath. When you start to breathe again, it becomes extremely obvious. Like you had been preparing yourself for an answer that you wouldn’t like. That hurts, but he doesn't blame you. It’s understandable, and the feeling passes quickly when you smile and finally open your eyes.

“You have no idea how great it is to hear that.”

“I have some idea.”

He frowns as your eyes linger on the bandages that are still wrapped around his torso.

Hanzo thinks you’re staring because you’re tired of seeing him wrapped up like this, “Hopefully, I won’t need to wear these for much longer.”

He’s wrong, “Is it messed up that I think you look kinda hot with all bandaged up like that? I mean, I don’t think it’s sexy that you're hurt. It just...looks good for some reason.”

He laughs, “The only thing ‘messed up’ about what you just said is the word ‘kinda’.”  ****

You absolutely love the answer he gave you. It causes your eyes to light up with lust. You slowly get up from the bed and walk towards him.

"Well, if I'm being truthful, food wasn't the only thing I was thinking about."

"Hmm, also a nice thing to let your mind wonder to.” 

Hanzo can feel his heart quicken as you drop down to your knees in front of him. You gingerly take a hold of his ankles and remove him from his position. Now you're between his legs, leisurely pulling his pants down enough for you to get at what you want.

He’d lean back, close his eyes, and relax. But Hanzo enjoys watching as your head bobs up and down far too much. With the added pleasure of seeing you with your hand down in your underwear. You’re humming and moaning, and every sound coming from your mouth is sending a pang from his head all the way down into the space you're making feel warm and wet. 

**** The way you look up at him through your eyelashes as you continue to lovingly get him off is making him feel weak. Your mouth is soft and delicately textured. You’re enthusiastic but gentle. You take all of him in and your back arches slightly as your body tries to reject it. But you quickly are able to relax and resume massaging circles within your underwear. 

****You’re making him feel so good that  it is causing him shake a little. He weaves an unsteady hand into your hair and gently grasps hard enough to get a small whine out of you. It makes you even more enthusiastic, and he can feel the pressure within his body getting ready to release itself.

“Ah,” he whispers your name. “You feel good, you're so…ah… ah..”

With him still in your mouth, you  _smile_ , and he's had enough. He tries his best to keep his hips from bucking into your face, but a few small ones escape him. You don’t mind though as you were ready for them.

When you release him from your mouth, you sit back and continue to try and finish yourself off, all while lovingly looking up at him from the floor.

There's no way he'd leave you to take care of yourself. No matter how lovely the sight of it may be. So he gets down onto the floor with you, takes you by the waist, and lays you back. He lays down next to you and uses one of his legs to keep yours spread apart. Hanzo takes both of your hands and places them onto his face.

As his hand replaces your removed one, you pull him forward and kiss him passionately. He returns every bitten lip, every flick of your tongue laced with fire. You roll your hips up into his hand. Your hands on his face turn into arms tightly wrapped around his neck. You pry yourself from his mouth so you can throw your head back as you come. 

“Ah! Ah! Hanzo! Oh, Baby…” You groan, “Fuck…”

He chuckles against your cheek, because your poor neighbor, Lena, is bound to hear that. He doesn’t care about being embarrassed and doesn't try to quiet you. He kisses your neck and runs his hand along your chest, groping lightly, until your breathing has slowed down to a normal rhythm.

He whispers into your ear, “Dinner?” 

All you can seem to be able to do is hum, and he takes that as a yes.

 

*

 

The next day, there's a spontaneous party that’s broken out in the mess hall. Every single agent is there. There's plenty of booze, music, and loud banter. You had gotten here long before Hanzo had, since he had a particularly long session with Zenyatta today. So you're already fairly under the influence and having a grand time.

When he gets there, he leans against a wall with a drink that was shoved into his hand by Jesse. He's not planning on having much. It wouldn't be good for him right now. He's just observing, as you haven't noticed him arrive yet. You look to be having an animated… what is that? An argument? A conversation? With Hana. He can never tell with the two of you. 

You look towards the doorway looking for someone, and apparently, that was him. Because you open mouth grin, wave at him, and run over. You slow down as you approach him so you can give him a careful hug. He gives you a kiss on the forehead as you nuzzle into the crook of his arm. 

He has you like this for a while. But you're full of energy,  and he knows he'll have to release you soon. You dance, well, more like wiggle, against his side to the beat of the music. Then Hana chooses a song that makes you very excited.

"Hana! Holy shit this song is OLD!" 

Hana is already clapping her hands together, and dancing, "It's still fun! Come here lady, dance with me!" 

Hanzo doesn't know what song this is. He’s never heard it before, but apparently, several other agents also know the song and start to sing along as the lyrics start up. It is a very whimsical, uptempo song with lots of keyboard, and it certainly does sound old. But as Hana had exclaimed, it is fun, and the lyrics are easy enough to catch onto. You're practically bouncing now, so Hanzo gives you a small push of encouragement, and off into a little dance huddle you go. 

Hanzo can't think about a damn thing while you’re enthusiastically swinging your hips, shaking your shoulders, and singing along with the rest of the group. You've got the biggest smile, and you're having so much fun. It's the cutest sight, and he's happy to just be able to witness it. These are the kinds of moments he likes to live for these days. 

But then he happens to see his brother sneaking away from the party. Hanzo scans the crowd for Jesse and finds him seated with Lena and Reinhardt, who's got the pup seated in his lap, and if that's not one of the most ridiculous things he's ever seen. Hanzo is curious as to why Genji would be fleeing a scene that seems to be made for him. So he follows. 

When Hanzo finds him he's sitting outside in the grass of the track and field meditating. He takes a seat next to him and starts to meditate with him. 

He quietly questions, ”Not a fan of the party brother?" 

"No, not today, I'm afraid." 

Interesting, ”May I ask why?" 

Genji takes a minute to respond, "Only if you're prepared for the answer to possibly make you feel bad." 

"I am prepared." 

“Parties… they are a shared experience. Where everyone is under the influence, acting like idiots. Especially that one. I can't get drunk, so sometimes I get a little envious of the pleasure I can't partake in. Today is one of those days; it will pass." 

Hanzo chuckles. 

Genji side-eyes him, "What?" 

"Since when do you need alcohol in order to act like an idiot?"  

Genji can't help but laugh, "Thanks, brother." 

"Would it make you feel better if I did not drink?" 

"You don't have to do that." 

"Actually I do, doctors orders.” He starts to get back on his feet, “Come, we will both be sober idiots amongst all of the drunk ones." 

Genji laughs, "Are you calling yourself an idiot?" 

Hanzo shrugs, "Do you mean to tell me you disagree?" 

They look at each other, and for a moment, it feels as if it's a decade in the past before the tensions in the clan had risen to breaking levels. For the first time, it feels like this is going to work. They can maintain this.

Genji’s sight briefly grazes over the bandages that still are wrapped around Hanzo. They are starting to become less and less with each day but it’s still a reminder, “No. You are the biggest idiot I know." 

Hanzo claps his hands, "Then it is settled; let’s go.”

Genji looks back at Hanzo as he starts to walk off, “Why do you, of all people, want to go back to the party so bad?”

Hanzo shrugs. He wants to go back because he knows he’s missing out on some great shenanigans. He’d like Genji to come with him so they can both perhaps experience some fun memories together. He feels that’d be something worth sharing. 

Genji grins, “Is it cause your girlfriends being cute?”

“Perhaps. I would imagine by now Jesse has to be doing something ridiculous.”

Genji hops up, “We are missing out, aren’t we?”

They walk back into the mess hall together, while making bets on who they think will be the first person to get up on a table to dance. Genji thinks it will be either you, Lucio or Hana. Hanzo knows better and does not bet on you. You won’t be doing that unless someone is already up there and invites you to join them. So he places his bets on Lucio, and Genji settles on Hana. They’re both wrong. It’s Satya who’s the first to get up on a table. But it’s not long before Lucio and Hana join her. Then not much longer 'til they drag you up there with them.

As the party starts to settle down, several agents move into the common room. Here is where Hana convinces many people to play video games with her, including Hanzo and Genji. You’re far too tired and far too gone to even try. Hanzo’s got several pillows supporting his back against the couch on the floor, and you’re settled in between his legs with your head resting against one of his shoulders.

Hana’s chosen a racing game, that everyone can easily learn how to play. Surprisingly, Hanzo is pretty good at it, and surpassing Genji every time. The master, however, is Hana, who nearly always ends up in the first place. 

“Hey, brother aren’t you supposed to be cooler than me? Why are you losing so badly?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, Genji, why do’ya suck?”

Jesse, who’s not playing but giving words of encouragement, sitting on the couch with Genji, leans forward, so he can see you, “Woman, your eyes aren’t even open.”

“I don’ need to see to know.”

Genji retorts, “The both of you can shit talk all you want, but I’m catching up!”

As the night grows older, some agents retire to their rooms. While others simply fall asleep for the night in the common room. You’ve fallen asleep, but you had scooted down to use his thigh as a pillow and are now covered by a blanket that Lucio threw over you before he and Hana left. Jesse’s taking up most of the couch, passed out, using Genji’s lap as a pillow, hat over his face, and snoring not so softly. 

It’s very late, and Hanzo is starting to feel delirious. So he gently gets situated on the floor with you, while Genji is harping on him about being tired.

“You’re getting old.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Funny that you’re tired now that I’ve started winning.”

Hanzo huffs, “You’ve only started winning, because I am tired.”

Genji may be poking fun, but he’s still doing the same thing Hanzo is doing. Getting settled in for what's left of the rest of the night.

“I'm sure you believe that.”

This could go on for another hour, “Good. Night. Genji.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good night, brother.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/) ( ˘ ³˘)❤


	11. Regression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the crazy long wait for an update for this. Life and my indecision on the direction I wanted to go with this are to blame. I've actually been sitting on this chapter for a while. Wanted to update this when I was done with the rest of the chapters since I am near an end for this fic. But decided I'd rather just give you guys the chapter since it's done. Sorry for the ramble, hope you enjoy! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

** 2 Months Later **

It has been a stressful couple of months. The talon agents that gave you guys hell when recovering Genji have been a continues problems. Making for several taxing missions. Each one was dangerous. During each one, someone came back hurt. One had you and Hanzo separated for two weeks. Such a minute amount of time, and yet it had affected you way more than you would want to admit. 

With the recall now in full effect, more and more agents are being recruited into Overwatch. New faces, and lots of new people to meet. You and Hanzo end up getting tasked part time with training them. You don’t mind this; this task is actually fun and feels fulfilling. Working with Hanzo in a non-threatening environment is nice. Even if most of the recruits end up asking you all of the "stupid" questions because they're too intimidated by Hanzo to ask him.

You have to laugh because the poor man just can't seem to help the resting bitch face, no matter how hard he tries. So you always end up with a neat line of agents waiting patiently for your guidance, while Hanzo is off to the side leaning against the wall of the training room wondering what all the commotion is about. 

A large portion of the “stupid” questions come from a lack of structure in the department. There’s no head. No one person keeping track of what exactly the recruits have learned. They meet with whoever is available to train them. There are no records, no way to track new recruits progress. Not only does it take up valuable time trying to play catch up, it’s also extremely dangerous. These recruits out on missions? If you’ve ever seen a recipe for disaster, this sure is it.

You’ve harped to Ana endlessly about this. Just about every time you get done with a training lesson, you’re right on her trail letting her know about all the newest problems that have arisen from the current system. And every time she tells you she’s taking notes and that they are working on a more structured training department.

“For the love of… just- please have patience.”

Hanzo had said, “If it were up to me I wouldn’t approve any of them for missions. They are far from ready.”

Standing shoulder to shoulder with him you nudge him in approval.

“Yes! I agree. Not one of them. Not with a good conscience at least.”

Ana throws her hands up, “You two are driving me batty with this! I assure you a solution is coming soon.”

Then after that, it’s usually another meeting. Where you sit and listen to Ana talk about politics and world view dynamics. That frankly, you don’t give a fuck about it. Any of it. You’re just so tired. So sore in your bones and brain.

You haven't been going to see Zenyatta. If you're being truthful, it's because you thought you would have to. You thought that Hanzo would need you to go. To show him that you're a person of your word. You didn't think he'd be so proactive about it. That he'd go, and then continue to go. Over and over. Routine, like clock work. At least when Zenyatta isn’t away on a mission. He didn't need you to go in order for him to see that it is necessary, and you couldn’t be more proud of him. 

So you never ended up with a good reason to go yourself, even if you need Zen’s help. Going for yourself is simply not a good enough reason to hold yourself to it. So as Hanzo is starting to flourish, you are starting to regress. And it seems like lately, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t get your emotions under control. Every little thing makes you upset or stresses you out. It’s as if the universe just can't allow the both of you to be content at the same time.

So now you’re starting to get to the point where you’re thinking, am I made for this? And your bots will hum in response, yes. But those thoughts never make it very far. Because you always feel guilty when you start to think about quitting. How could you possibly ever do that? This is your life now. Hanzo is here. Your friends are here. The people you’ve met in this facility are the closest thing to family you’ve ever had. What would they think of you? If you told them you wanted to walk away? You’re over thinking, as always.

You’re sitting in the board room, chin resting against your fist, staring off onto a fixed point in the room. Spaced out and not listening. Hanzo is staring at you, wondering where the hell your head is at. These are important mission parameters, and you’re not hearing a word of it.

He should nudge you, pinch you, or cough loudly. Do something, but he’s wondering just how long it’s going to take for you to snap out of it. He’ll fill you in after the meeting is over and figure out what has your headspace so occupied. Genji is sitting across the table from you and is the last person you need noticing your daze. Before Hanzo can glare at him, and mouth for him to let you be, he’s already dramatically leaning forward across the table, placing his fist against his chin in the same way yours is, mocking you. 

Genji has good intentions, and it’s become customary for him to tease you like the younger sibling he’s never had, but now is not the time. Hanzo dips his fingers into his glass of water and flicks it at him. Genji flinches dramatically, reaches into Jesse’s glass of water and does the same back. This is unfortunately what finally brings you out of whatever head space you were in. Because you end up getting hit with several of the droplets of water that were meant for Hanzo.

Something is most definitely has you upset, because the look on your face is not one of feigned offense, but of very real annoyance. 

Genji grimaces and throws up his hands. Whispers, “Sorry! He started it!”

Hanzo is in shock as he watches you roll your eyes and go back to not paying attention to the briefing. It’s not like you to let such a trivial thing get under your skin.

Genji asks in Japanese,  _"What's got her so high strung today? Did you piss her off? Brother... what did you do!"_

Hanzo frantically tries to tell him to shut up by waving his hand in front of his throat, but it's far too late. Your attention snaps back to Genji and you slam your palm down onto the table,  

"What makes you think that's any of your business?"  

The conversation has caught Jesse's attention and your response makes him wince,  

"Maybe we should all stop talkin' now."  

Genji's not fazed by your attitude, but is however taken aback by the fact that you understood him,

_ "You understand Japanese?!"   _

You aggressively nod. 

His mouth drops open as he looks to Hanzo,  _"How many conversations have we had around her! You never told me!"_

Hanzo shrugs. He never thought about it, never felt the need to hide any of the conversations from you… until now. And you in turn never felt the need to chime in on any of them. So Genji never found out until this unfortunate moment that you understand most of what they say to each other in their first language.  

Ana slams both of her hands down at the head of the table, instantly getting everyone's attention. "Do I need to put the four of you into time out? Pay. Attention."

The briefing ends, and you’re up and out of your seat faster than anyone else. All you really had managed to gather was the when and where of the mission. You’ll make sure to look over the mission files before you have to leave. All you want to do is get the hell out of there. There are far too many people in that room staring at you, and wondering about your state of mind. Hanzo trails after you, close on your heels. Stops you with a light grip on your arm and guides you into a secluded corner.

“Tell me, what is on your mind?”

You can feel yourself instantly starting to shut down. You’re deathly afraid of what his reaction would be if you told him you want your retirement back. Maybe not so much the seclusion, but you can’t have everything.

“I’m tired. I haven't been sleeping that well lately.”

Hanzo’s faces scrunches up, and a frown settles in on his face as his eyebrows pull together, “Do not lie to me.” 

You’re taken aback, and not sure what to say. You’re not wholly lying to him, just holding back the whole truth. Which might as well be the same thing, so you’re not going to argue about the difference.

“I would rather you tell me you do not want to talk about it.”  He takes in a deep breath through his nose. He’s angry, “Rather than have you look me in the eye and lie.”

Your stomach drops, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“If you do not want to let me help you, then you should consider letting Zenyatta. This behavior is concerning.” 

“I don’t think he can help with this.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Take a moment to think about what it is you just said to me. Be truthful.”

You just keep digging yourself into a deeper hole. Of course, Zenyatta could help; you just don’t want it. You scold yourself, such a hypocrite. 

“I just… I would like some more time to think about this on my own.” You should stop there but that wouldn’t be in your nature, “Is that alright with you?”

“Take as much time as you need.” 

Hanzo’s body language doesn't match his words. He’s shaking his head and has got his arms crossed over his chest. All accompanied by a hard and deep-seated frown on his face. Then as he’s about to walk away you can see his wheels turning, and a look that says,  _fuck that_ , before he speaks again.

“You have to see Zenyatta. I can not let this go without you making that promise. He gets back from his mission within the week. That will afford you your time to think. You will see him then. We can go together, or you can go alone; either way, it will be done. This is unacceptable, you shouldn’t be allowed on missions acting like this.”

When his rant started up you had expected to be angry by the end. Expected to want to tell him to shove it for telling you what to do, but you’re not. In fact, you’re grateful, and find yourself liking him telling you how it is. That was exactly what you needed to hear. The firm push that was necessary to get yourself to do what needs to be done.

The harsh tension between the two of you is palpable. So you cross your arms and smile. Approach him a little coyly. He’s still staring you down as you give him a kiss.

“Yes, sir.” 

Hanzo shakes his head, “Do not call me sir, you sound like a recruit.”

“I could stand to be taught a few things… sir.”

Hanzo is suspicious of you, he squints his eyes and scrunches up his nose. He’s confused and hasn’t quite caught onto you trying to shift the mood.

“I’m not sure what it is that you are doing, but you need to knock it off.”

“Why don’t you make me,  _sir_.”

Hanzo is trying so hard to remain serious with you, but you can see the anger leave his eyes, replaced by a spark of realization. Hanzo reaches out and grabs the bottom of your shirt, wraps it once around his fist and tugs you forward so that you fall against his chest. He says quietly,

“Stop it. Were you being serious with that first response?”

You nod and lazily run your fingers along his beard, purposefully trying to avoid looking him in the eyes. 

“I was.”

Hanzo lets go of your shirt so he can wrap one arm around you while he cradles your head against his chest with his hand. He rests his cheek on top of your head, and falls silent. You do the same except you put your arms around his waist and lock yourself in with a hold on your wrist. He actually feels like he has more to say, but he’d rather not beat a dead horse. The thing is he’s exhausted as well, in much the same way that you are. 

“What’s the matter? You tired?” 

Hanzo nods, then pulls away so he can push the hair away from your face, 

“I would like a drink or two… and a nap.” 

You’d tease him about getting old, but that’s just too relatable. 

“Me too.”

The hair is no longer in your face anymore, but Hanzo continues to fiddle with it anyway. Smoothing the hair back against your head far more than it needs to be. The look on his face turns a little solemn, 

“I’ve been missing you.” 

The sentiment goes right over your head. The split second thought process for you is: you’ve been working side by side for the past month. That two-week separation was a while ago now. You’re literally in his arms. “I’m right here, Hanzo.”

“Yes, yes you are.” 

*

 

You’ve had a horrible time sleeping tonight. It’s the worst night you’ve had in months. You stare at the ceiling for hours, hopelessly awake. Until you finally give in, reach over to the night stand, and take a sleeping pill.

You look over to Hanzo, the asshole had fallen asleep when he wanted to. He’s going to have a sore neck in the morning, due to how he fell asleep with his face half on your shoulder and half on the pillow. Neck crooked at an angle, with one of his arms thrown across your stomach. The other underneath him and wrapped around your arm.

He’d been so clingy tonight. Closer than usual at dinner, not sitting in his usual spot across from you, but instead beside you, hip to hip. He was unusually talkative, just talking and talking. About Genji, the missions, and the ridiculous shenanigans McCree has been putting the new recruits through. It just seemed like anything and everything that fluttered across his brain. How strange, not that you minded. 

Of course, the obvious reason for the behavior is because he knows something is wrong. You still haven’t spoken out loud to him about the concerns plaguing your mind. So it would seem that he’s trying to make up for your lack of enthusiasm and lack of luster for the cause. With unusual behavior of his own.

You could have it much worse. In fact, you don't have it bad at all. You could be him dealing with yourself. You’re being a terrible partner. If only you didn't have this mental block keeping you from spilling your thoughts. As if his reaction to what you're feeling might end the world. But it could, couldn't it? At least yours. 

You stare at him ‘till your eyes hurt. Until they are burning and glassing up with tears. Then you give into sleep and let your eyes fall closed. Only to be met with a nightmare. 

 

*

_You’re sitting back in the office that changed your life. You’re young. Starving. Homeless. Desperate. The office is...nice. It’s purposefully made to look welcoming. With soft, soothing colors. Not at all like an open mouth to the belly of a beast._

_A woman walks in. She doesn't look exactly as you remember her. She’s more mannequin-esque now. Skin impossibly smooth. Smile too wide, too stuck. You want desperately to leave. But your body will not move._

_All at once, you’re aware of what future she has in store for you. And you want to scream, kick, and yell, “I’ll take the streets! I’ll stay hungry, anything but this. Don’t feed me your lies and false promises. I know what you are, snake.”_

_But like most things in dreams you can’t get what you want. You have no voice, no freedom of movement. No control over where this is going. After all it’s already happened._

_With a snap of the woman’s fingers, the scene changes. Suddenly you find yourself in a tank, surrounded by water, a tube down your throat, and needles, hundreds upon hundreds of needles in your veins. The water is ice cold, an attempt to keep your body temperature down while the bots are being pumped into your body._

_You can see them all over again. The three desperate souls, just like you, that you watched die from this procedure. And you’re thinking, if this hurts this much, I must be dying too. In this dream, you are. The water is getting too hot, and the breathing tube isn’t supplying you with air anymore. So you start to thrash and beat on the tank. Trying to break free._

_As you kick your legs and bang your fists on the glass, the needles tear and pull out of your skin. Blood starts to flood the water. Soon you’re surrounded by clouds of red. You’re eternally suspended in a state of drowning, of being boiled alive. If hell exists, this is what it’d be like for you._

_*_

 

You are wailing, sobbing, kicking, and throwing punches. No matter how hard Hanzo tries to get you to wake up, he is unsuccessful. His heart is racing, why won’t you wake? Nightmares aren’t unusual he knows how to deal with those. But this, this is something entirely different. There’s a knock on the door, and a concerned voice.

“Is everything alright?”

It doesn’t register with Hanzo who exactly the voice belongs to. He’s too focused on trying to get a hold of your face. But every time he lets go of one of your wrists, you start throwing punches, and you’ve already landed three. One of them right in his nose; he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding, but he hasn’t stopped to check. That is not important right now.

Another series of knocks, “Hey, Hanzo? Open the door let us help.”

Hanzo’s already got an idea. He’s probably going to get hit more, but he’ll risk it. He jumps out of the bed and swiftly scoops you up into his arms. Asks Athena to open the door. Lena, Genji, and Jesse are waiting out side of it. All concerned, and all willing to help. What they need to do is get out of the way or they’re going to get kicked.

Hanzo pushes past them and heads down the hall.

“Brother, where are you going?”

“Outside.”

Your screaming is echoing through the halls, and everyone is waking up now. Once outside he holds you as close to his chest as you’ll allow. Then rocks you back and forth.

“Come on, my love, wake up. Wake up! Come back to the waking world.”

The natural light that is starting to flood upon the morning, and the cold crisp air, is enough to jar your senses and wake you up. Suddenly your eyes snap open, dart back and forth, taking in your surroundings. As you continue to sob, you scramble to get your arms wrapped around his neck. Your whole body is shaking in Hanzo’s hold. He drops down to his knees and continues to rock you.

“You’re okay.” He rubs your arm with his hand. You may be awake, but he can tell you’re not quite with him yet. He gently shakes you, “Look, the sun is coming up, look.”

You look, but you still have a quivering lip and a deep frown. It hurts him in his the middle of his gut and the base of his heart to see it. Pulls and twists at the muscles. This all has to be connected. Your far away gazes, and your lack of witty commentary. The way you’ve stopped teasing him, and how he finds himself missing it. And now this.

It kills him to try and find a reason behind your reluctance to trust him. What has he done wrong? You should be able to speak with him on anything. What could be plaguing you so much that you’d keep it from him? Aren't the two of you supposed to be passed this kind of nonsense? As you’re still zoned out and looking into the sunset, Hanzo leans forward, buries his face in your neck, and whispers.

“Why do you insist on staying silent?”

You don't hear him. And even if you had, you wouldn't have given him an answer. 

 

*    

 

The mission, unfortunately, gets pushed up a day. Ana has sympathy for your bad night, but a man by the name of Jack Morrison does not.  A session with Zenyatta is going to have to wait. Morrison had shown up at base a month back, walking in like he owned the place, and immediately started ordering people around. And when Ana came to confront him, all she did was smile and welcome him back. As if he was meant to be here the whole time. 

And that was that. No one at the facility was given any kind of explanation. Commander Jack Morrison is here now. Side by side with Ana, and they are a force to be reckoned with. They get shit done in tandem. Not one person in this facility even wants to question it. Everybody just goes with the flow. 

You’re leaning up against the wall outside of the hangar. Waiting to hear Morrisons gravely voice commanding you guys to get your asses in gear. Hanzo leans up against the wall with you, presses his shoulder to yours, crosses his arms, and sighs.

“May I ask you a question?”

“You can always ask.”

“Hmpf.” With that response, he almost drops it. Instead, he pushes the annoyance away and continues, “What did you want out of life? When you were young?”

If you really thought about it, you could give him an answer.

“I’m not sure if I know how to answer that.”

“Come now. Every young one has dreams, aspirations, visions of what they would like their future to look like.”

When did this happen? When did the tables turn and you become the silent one? You shrug. Hanzo runs his hand down your arm, grips your forearm, applies pressure ’til he gets to your hand and stops. Where he drums his fingers across your own.

“I find it hard to believe that a person such as you never daydreamed.”

You have an answer, multiple answers, and yet you stay silent. Just… give another shrug. What are you doing? He may be trying to be sly about it, but you can still tell that this is another attempt to get you to spill what's been on your mind. With the nature of the question, it almost has you thinking perhaps he is already aware you don’t want this kind of life. After all, you had never asked for the bots and only ever did what you needed to survive.

Hanzo grips your hand, “Do you think I’d judge you?”

You eye him, “Perhaps.”

Hanzo is being surprisingly patient. If he was being this short, this cold with you, you’d already be upset. Now isn’t the time to be talking about this, you tell yourself. Though it would seem that Hanzo couldn’t care less. You’re afraid that any succession of words might make you spill your guts. It’s unfair that you’re thinking about giving him a choice. Overwatch or this relationship. You’re not looking to go long distance. Couldn’t even begin to imagine how much you’d stress over not being on the same dangerous missions. If only just to be able to keep an eye on him. 

You throw the question back at him, “What did you daydream about when you were young?”

Hanzo weaves his fingers between yours and takes some time to think about his answer.

“There was this spot in my home. High up. That had a grand view of Hanamura, and I could see all of those houses. Exactly like the one you have. Filled with families, in close proximity to one another. There was one family that was always… so loud. 

With laughter, and sometimes yelling. I could hear pots and pans clanging at dinner time. Truthfully most of the time it would anger me; annoy me to no end. That spot was supposed to be a peaceful one...

But sometimes I could convince myself that there was peace in all of that racket. That one house was so much louder, filled with so much more life than the entirety of my own. I’d find myself imaging having that.”

You can feel yourself gawking, wide-eyed, and feeling a little teary. A family? A busy house? That’s such a normal thing to want.

He smiles nervously because he is unsure of what your facial expression is saying,

“Do you find that to be ridiculous?”

“No! No, not at all.” Then you pause and fidget with his clothes. You’re nervous about testing the waters, “Is that… something you still imagine yourself having?”

He nods, “It certainly would be nice, wouldn't it?”

You’re confused, “But…” 

“But?”

“But what about the empire? Restoring your families name is why we’re here isn't it?”

That question throws him for a loop. Then he has to remember that you haven't been there in the sessions he’s been having with Zenyatta and his brother. Where they had both come to the conclusion that there’s no point in trying to catch ghosts, in attempting to revive things that have long been gone. The empire is dead, and it is time to let it rest.

He shakes his head, “At first, yes. But now… I do not care for that anymore. Genji and I are well, and that’s all I wanted from this place. The Shimada empire may have been my legacy, but with Zenyatta’s sound reasoning, I have found I never truly wanted that. It’s hard to know what you want when you feel you have no options… no other paths…”

Hanzo looks to you and finds that you are intently listening. Some of the shine has come back into your eyes.

“It is best not to dwell on those things.” He says as he brushes your hair back behind your ear, “It is your turn now.”

You jolt as you hear Morrison voice ring out in the corridor,

“Look alive! It’s time to move out!”

You actually wanted to continue this conversation, because suddenly you're not so scared to talk to him anymore. His sharing has made you feel hopeful. Now you just have to figure out how to get your own feelings across. Remember how to human, since you've suddenly forgotten. Look what a little bit of communication does. 

But this is yet another thing that will have to wait, as you’re being rushed now. Morrison is shouting all kinds of demands at the people who are lagging. Any more heart to hearts are going to have to be saved for later. You’re just going to have to hope that when later does come around you won’t end up losing your nerve again.

 

*

 

Reaper and Widow are quizzically looking at your photo. You’re younger in this photo, but it is, without a doubt, you. Widow had casually mentioned after a mission that you looked… familiar to her. She had seen your face before. Sometime a long long time ago, within a tube similar to the ones she had previously been held in. It’s terribly bad for you that she just happened to see your face for a brief moment. That in that brief amount of time between you being concealed by the bots and not being shrouded by them was just enough. 

She had a light bulb moment. Went into the Talon database and found your file under the ‘escaped and wanted’ status. When you had ‘left’ Talon you caused a lot of chaos. Broke a lot of expensive things, caused a few casualties, and took a lot of Talon’s money. Now that she’s figured out why you were so familiar to her the Widow doesn't care anymore. If only she had kept her discovery to herself. Her curiosity had a very shallow peak and was easily satiated. She leaves Reaper to keep pondering over your profile and the plethora of notes that lie within it. He’s starting to feel himself become hyper-fixated. The nano technically that Talon implemented within your own body is much the same as the technology that keeps himself alive and near unstoppable. 

You, however, are stoppable; just elusive. Where’d they go wrong with you? Perhaps it’s death that made him stronger. 

In the grand scope of things, the money is nothing to Talon. A mere hefty portion of an endless pile of riches that they have under their control. In fact, yourself and the bots that they forced you to acclimate to are worth more than the cash you stole. You still have potential. And they have plenty of methods to still make you into the asset that they had wanted you to be. Reaper is sifting through your profile thinking you’ll have plenty of chances to work off that debt you have to Talon. 

He’s got plans. Reaper’s going to be the last person you’ll want to find yourself alone with. It’s time Talon recruited you back into their ranks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/) ( ˘ ³˘)❤


	12. What Goes Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Angst Town, USA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!

This mission has been a damn mess from the get go. There are far more Talon agents here than anyone had thought there would be. While this development is giving you a severe case of angina, Morrison is taking it as good news. This must mean that the Doomfist gauntlet has been stashed here. Why else would there be a need for so much security? This was supposed to be a simple scoping mission. A team sent in to see if those rumors are true, and it’s looking like that’s most likely a yes. This compound is large, tall, and confusing. It's clear that it had been repurposed. What used to be a building for business and pushing papers, now being used by a terrorist organization to house something valuable and dangerous.

While you and Hanzo are sprinting across an open expanse of space in pursuit of an entryway into the building, Widowmaker starts her assault. A terribly loud shot rings out and bounces off the walls. Making it hard to figure out where she is perched. The first shot just barely misses Hanzo, zings past his head, and sticks into the wall. Causing pieces of metal and brick to spread out in all directions, that was centimeters away from being Hanzo’s skull.

You don't have time to waste on dwelling on the what-if's of the situation. Quickly you block Hanzo from the Widow with your body. Tell him to get down and keep moving. Use you as a shield as much as he can. The sniper’s bullets ding off of your armor and back at her. Why hasn't she relented? Perhaps it's because she is too far away for the bullets to reach her again, or perhaps she's good at dodging them. These shots are going to stay with you for a week or two, in the form of rich colored bruises. Every one feeling like a concentrated punch on your skin.

Abruptly, her shots stop. You’re hoping one of them finally reached her, came back at the woman like karma. However, it is more likely that she realized she was getting nowhere and decided to move on.

After you guys get to proper cover, you leave Hanzo to go and check out a spot that Morrison says the gauntlet may be in. You’re the closest ground agent to it. So it has become your responsibility to see if it is there. If you find it, you are then to take up the task of making it back to the drop ship with it. Hanzo will stay perched at the entrance keeping anymore Talon agents from entering the building.  

On the way there, you nearly run right into the Reaper. By the skin of your teeth, you manage to avoid his detection. Quickly you duck out of sight. Your heart races as you hide behind the corner praying that he won't come this way.  _Just pick a different route you big pain in my ass._  No past encounter has ever gone over well with him, and you’ve only got so much luck to spare. It almost feels as if he’s got a vendetta against you. Maybe it's because now matter how hard he tries, you’re that one agent who just keeps getting away from him. You never die when he wants you to.

To your immense relief, Pharah starts unleashing some attention-commanding hell. Reaper quickly moves on from where you need to be, with the objective of pacifying the problems she is causing. Turns out luck is on your side, yet again. You continue in your pursuit to see if the gauntlet is where Morrison thinks it is. You have to climbs stairs… so many god damned stairs, before you finally make it to the floor you need to be on. 

You get one of your guns ready, point it ahead of you, and enter the room cautiously. Sombra squats down on the floor tinkering with a suspicious looking package attached to a drone. You've never actually met this Talon agent before. However, you still recognize her from the photos you've seen of her in meetings. 

“Alright, Sombra. That’s enough of that, thanks. Step away from the drone.”

Sombra smirks up at you, not at all looking like she’s worried about you being here. She casually stands up and places her hands onto her hips. She saunters towards you, dramatically placing one foot right in front of the other with each step. Every step she takes closer, you take two steps back. Your stance becoming more and more hostile each time. Sombra eyes you up and down, with a very curious look on her face. Sombra has been the only agent that Winston had specifically warned you about. He gave you several words of caution, stating that Sombra's abilities could potentially be detrimental for you.

This being your first one on one with her, you're nervous. You have a fundamental understanding of her talents, but you're still unsure of what to expect. You have certainly had to deal with the problems she's caused in past missions. All those times she’s made it impossible to leave buildings. Hacked doors, drop ships, and your comms. Made certain agents weapons useless. Made intel look real enough to lure teams into locations with nothing but an ambush awaiting them there. You’re not sure what would happen if she got close enough to touch you, and you don’t want to find out.

“That’s a neat suit of armor you got there. Nano bots? How cliche.” 

She snaps her fingers and the drone suddenly takes flight. Oh no, no. That package has to be the gauntlet, and you can't be the agent that just let it get away. You point your gun at the drone and fire off several shots. With your full concentration, each hit their target and the drone starts to fall back to the ground. Sputtering, smoking and broken into pieces. As you try and refocus your attention back on Sombra, you find that she has disappeared. You know about this trick. Bad, very very bad. Panic churns your stomach, makes it hard to plan a viable plan of action. 

The first thing you do is try back yourself into a corner. If can manage to corner yourself before she has a chance to get behind you, then you can fire blindly and hopefully scare her away. But it’s already too late. This time you’re all out of luck. You could swear your heart stops for a moment as you feel her nails rake across the bots on your hip.

She states mockingly, “Got you!”

The machines instantly turn on you. Retreat back under your skin and start to warm themselves up to dangerously high temperatures. The pain at first is moderate, but it doesn't take long for it to become unbearable. It’s the most physically painful thing you’ve ever felt in your life. The bots are starting to cook you from the inside out, and no matter how much you internally plead with them to stop they won’t listen to you. 

They feel hostile. They no longer feel like your annoying second conscience, or your protectors. That's all gone within seconds. Your throat starts to close up on you, and your brain starts to black out the experience. Before you drop to your knees, you manage to comm Hanzo. You can’t remember hearing your own voice, much less what you said. All you can do is hope that you've got just a bit more luck left in the reserves. 

 

*

 

When your voice buzzes in his ear, it’s as if the noise of the entire world gets canceled out for a few moments. You’re in trouble, and the amount of pain in your voice is inexplicably alarming. Without a single thought about it, he sprints to your location. As he’s climbing the wall to the last floor he was aware you were on, it’s clear that he is in the right area, because he can hear you wailing. He pulls himself over the edge, in through the window, and immediately nocks an arrow. The first thing he sees is Sombra looming over you. Watching as you writhe around in pain on the ground.

She looks to be waiting for someone. Evidenced by the tapping of her foot, and the look she shoots over her shoulder. When she looks back to you, the look on her face actually tells Hanzo that she’s horrified by the sight of you. If she doesn’t like what she’s done then why doesn't she fix it? Is it because it’s irreversible? When she sees Hanzo, she tries to run for a package off to the side next to a broken drone. He lets his ready arrow fly. It goes right through her calve and sticks into the wall, keeping her there. She screeches and falls down onto one of her knees, clutches her leg, and lets out a pathetic sob.

Hanzo nocks another arrow and points it right at her head, 

“What did you do to her!”

Hanzo looks to you. Still writhing in pain, teeth bared. Tears running down your face. Blood has started to flow out of your nose, and it doesn't seem as if you can breathe.

Sombra tosses up her hands, “I’ll reverse it! I’ll reverse it!”

Sombra is about to tell him that he’ll need to bring you over to her, but he’s already bending over and giving the shaft of the arrow a strong tug. Only enough to remove it from the wall and not her leg, but it still causes her to scream none the less. He takes a hold of her arm and drags her over to you. 

Sombra presses a long nail into your skin, breaking through it. A small line of blood drizzles down your arm. Hanzo nearly snatches her arm back up, so he can yank her away from you. Sombra hastily takes note of the hostility towards what she’s doing and quickly throws her free hand up,

“Relax! Relax! I have to be able to touch them to reverse it!”

The room falls heavy with silence as you stop wailing. It’s relieving but also eery. You haven’t passed out yet, from the looks of you it doesn't seem like you'll be conscious much longer. It looks to him like you are trying to gather your sanity back. With your eyes filtering wildly around the room. Only coming to a fixed point when you find him. Sombra looks up at Hanzo and holds both her hands up. Arms shaking from the pain her leg is in.

“There. All fixed, problem solved, you probably gonna want to get her some medical attention, yeah?”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

Hanzo is aware that she’s trying to get rid of him. Trying to distract him from something. Then he remembers the package that she was trying to go after. He looks at it fully understanding what is in there. Then resumes pointing a nocked arrow at her head.

“Leave.”

“B-but—“

“Do not make me repeat myself!”

Sombra struggles to get up on to her one good leg, as she still wants to keep her hands raised. She doesn’t know what kind of person she has in front of her. Doesn’t want to risk accidentally doing anything that might cause him to become trigger happy. She’s already made the mistake of hurting someone he obviously cares about. That's an automatic two strikes. Sombra’s a woman who knows when she’s skating on thin ice.

Still, it is in her nature to be cheeky. She eyes the package one more time and thinks on it. Then comes to a quick conclusion, which is, screw it. Reaper can cry to her about it all he wants later. She can always handle that. What’s holding up that man anyway? He’s the one who demanded she stay and babysit you. She could’ve been long gone already and with the gauntlet. All she is going to be focused on right now is getting out of here with her head in tact. Next on the agenda? Getting her hands on some pain meds as soon as possible. She hobbles away, taking her leave as fast as she possibly can.

Hanzo watches has Sombra literally disappears as she goes through the doorway. That makes him nervous. But since she’s bleeding and loudly shuffling, she won’t be able to sneak up on him. So he puts the arrow back and hooks his bow back around his body. Then he quickly gets on the comm to let the team know,

“The gauntlet is exactly where you thought it was, Morrison. Though, you will have to come retrieve it yourself.”

Morrison,  _“What the hell are you talking about Shimada? Grab it, bring it back here.”_

That's an order he won't be following. Hanzo's first priority is getting you to safety. If he’s both carrying you and the gauntlet, that’s going to make him the biggest possible target for attack. He won’t risk it. Doesn’t begin to care enough about the gauntlet to chance that you might get even more hurt as he’s getting you back to the dropship. When Hanzo doesn't answer, Morrison starts going off in his ear. Hanzo barely hears him, couldn’t even bring himself to register what it is he’s going on about. Just a bunch of you better do this, you better do that nonsense. Maybe Hanzo’s not cut out for taking orders.

Even with blood still pouring from your nose, you are already trying to get yourself back up on your feet. Hanzo bends over to try and scoop you up, but you try and wave him away. He grabs a hold of your arm and throws it over his shoulder,

“You are going to let me help you.”

He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you in close to his side. Your breath is shallow and raspy; it sounds like breathing is a painful task. Your head falls against his chest as you start to sob. You’re in so much pain and feel as if all of the muscle strength has been drained from your body. How are you supposed to go anywhere feeling like this? 

“I’m so sorry…”

“For what? Don’t be ridiculous; let’s get you to the doctor.”

Hanzo is about to pick you up and carry you. This time you were going to let him. But then something catches his eye, something terribly awful. Black smoke starts the flitter over the edge of the window he had arrived in. Quickly accompanied by two clawed gloved hands grasping at the sides. You see it too and quickly drop out of his grasp to grab a hold of the pistol you had dropped during your turmoil. You may be exhausted and in pain, but you have no choice but to muster up some more energy and strength. 

Hanzo scoffs as he follows after you, helping you get back up by grabbing a hold of your waist.

“You’ve got three others you don’t need that one.”

Your voice is barely audible. A terribly scratchy and breathy sounding rasp, “With him we’ll need all we have.”

As Hanzo is securing your arm back over his shoulder, you point your gun at the open window and fire right as the Reaper starts to pull himself through. The shot lands dead center in his chest and makes him falter long enough for the two of you to get a decent head start. Hanzo tries to comm for back up. Everybody is busy dealing with their own big problems. Several promises are made to be there as soon as possible. While Morrison is still harping about gauntlet. You get a newfound rush of adrenaline and unhook yourself from Hanzo. You both can run much faster if you’re not latched onto him.

Unfortunately, when your luck ran out, it ran dry as a bone. Trying to go back the way you came is no good. There is a gang of Talon agents that are starting to swarm the area. All crowding around the last known spot of the gauntlet. Because of this, you’ll have to take a longer route to get back to the drop ship. You look behind you, actually expecting the Reaper to have given up the chase. If the gauntlet is back there, then what reason does he have to keep coming after you?

But he hasn’t stopped his pursuit. He’s still hot your trail, ghosting after you at an alarming speed. What could either of you have that he would still want? But then again Reaper’s motivations have always been shaky. Even with clear motivation sitting on the floor back in that room, it would seem that his own personal vendettas' are getting the best of him.

You sprint into what looks to be a grand lobby. The place where businessmen and women alike used to come and chat with coworkers, check in for work, then take elevators up to higher floors. It looks like at some point in its life it used to be shiny and clean cut. Now it's just a dusty shell with high walls made of glass and run down counters. The ceiling is made of intricate rafters, almost looking to be an art piece. Clearly made for style, more than structure. Hanzo shoves you behind one of these counters and demands,

_“Hide.”_

Hanzo disappears up one of the walls, no doubt getting to a higher advantage. You do as you’re told, ducking under one of the counters with your gun clutched in your hand. You can feel the bots poking at the underside of your skin, but the mere slight touch of them feels excruciating. You beg and beg and beg them not to reappear. If they do, you’re sure you’ll pass out. That's the last thing you need right now. You refuse to become any more of a burden in this situation. 

You didn’t hear the Reaper enter the room, not until he started talking.

“I’m here to collect your debt number 1013. I know all about your petty thievery and jailbreak. You owe Talon a lot, and it’s time to pay up.” 

So he’s after you. Guilt wells up in your chest, and you temporarily contemplate giving yourself up. But you know that Hanzo would never just let the Reaper take you away, and that wouldn’t make the situation any better. Might end up getting Hanzo severely hurt or killed, and you couldn’t live with that. You choose to stay still and stay silent. If he doesn't think you guys are in here, maybe he’ll leave. Of course, Reaper is no fool, and he won't be leaving. 

It’s as if he can smell you guys. Maybe he can just sense you. Regardless, he hovers in the room waiting to hear any sort of noise that will lead him to either one of you. Then he stops using his senses and starts using his common sense. He’s back to his solid form for the moment, and you can hear his heavy boots colliding with the floor. Heavy ominous steps that are headed your way. You’re starting to feel like one of those characters in a horror movie, hiding from the monster who is inevitably going to murder you. You know how those scenes play out, nobody survives. 

Your body sways as you try to get yourself prepared to fight. Your equilibrium lost to fatigue and a sore body. An arrow pierces through the air and lands right into Reapers neck. He grunts and curses. He is so close that he falls forward on the countertop with a loud thump. Another arrow flies and nearly hits him in the exact same spot. Reaper whips around and rips the arrows from his own body without any hesitation or care.

“You don’t have to feel left out, brother killer. You can come along too, having the both of you around would provide sound… motivation to be obedient.” 

Hanzo’s response is yet another arrow, and this one plants right into the back of his skull. This time coming from a completely different corner of the room. Reaper drops to his knees, reaches back, and removes the arrow with the same reckless abandon he had with the others. A sickening cracking noise accompanies the action, making your stomach turn in on itself. You look around the corner of the desk in time to see Reapers whole body vibrate and momentarily turn into a dark plume of smoke before it all collides back together again, recreating his form. 

Reaper gets his sights on Hanzo. You can see it in his stance, the way he becomes suddenly alert and stiff. Two tendrils' shoot up towards the ceiling. One wraps around the beam and squeezes it 'til it breaks. While the other wraps around Hanzo's ankle to keep him from bolting away. Hanzo plummets to the ground, landing harshly on his back with a pained grunt. You don't even think about your actions. You ready a gun, point it at the Reapers back, and fire. Blood briefly spurts out of the front of his chest for each shot that lands. You shoot until he has no choice but to let go of Hanzo in order to deal with you. 

You reach for a couple grenades, with the full intentions of sending them both Reaper's way. You don't yell for Hanzo to take cover, but rather demand it in a whisper into the comm. Hanzo takes the command without hesitation and runs for cover. You swiftly throw the grenades, both live, as they leave your hand and duck back behind the counter. 

Both of them go off, and they are painfully loud. In your haste, you had forgotten to cover your ears. Causing your ears to ring,as tons of glass shatters against the floor. Making the ringing feel like a wave of dizziness and searing pain in your head. The promise of a debilitating migraine tickles at the base of your skull. You fall forward onto your hands on knees, gritting your teeth, trying to get your rational thinking back into gear again. Hanzo is desperately trying to warn you about something in your ear but you just can’t register it. 

By the time you can finally hear him it’s far too late,  _“Get out of there! Run! Go! He’s coming for you!”_ He shouts your name so loud, you can hear him from across the room, “ _What are you doing! Move!”_

You hop up onto your feet, try to slide over the top of the counter. But the Reaper is already there, ready for you. He wraps a tendril of smoke around your body and tugs your towards his person. And then hurls you towards Hanzo. Uses your whole body as a weapon against him. 

You plummet into him sideways. You can hear a couple of his ribs crack from the impact. Despite the pain, Hanzo still catches you, holds you as you both hit the ground hard. You hit so hard that your right arm dislocates out of your shoulder. Glass crinkles and cracks under your collective weight. Hanzo grabs you by that same arm, not knowing that you’re hurt and rolls you off of him. Your cry from the pain is only brief, but it still startles him to the point of making him pause.

You quickly give him reassurance, “I’m okay! Just focus! Focus!”

Hanzo helps you back up onto your feet as he is doing the same. Hanzo is about to unleash the dragons, but if the Reaper is ready for them he just might escape their wrath. So you distract him with several more guns shots right in his face. They are so concentrated that they blast away nearly half of his mask. At first, he falls back, his whole body twisting away from you. Then he whips back around to face you. All of his attention and rage focused on you and you alone. For a moment it's like it's just him, you, and your imminent death. 

Then you make your true fatal mistake. You couldn't help it, but the sight of Reapers face is… shocking to say the very least. His skin is gray and rotted, yellow teeth exposed where his cheeks should be covering them. His eyes cloudy but still so piercing. You had always speculated that there was a reason for the mask. But it had always been a possibility that he was just protecting his identity. You just hadn't expected him to look like the literal living dead. 

His appearance isn't from your shots either. Bullet holes in his forehead and cheeks all healing before your eyes, and he still looks like  _that_.

The shock is clearly painted on your face. Might as well be a big glowing sign with flashing lights and neon colors, and Reaper loathes it. The next tentacle that reaches out for you has no intention of keeping you alive. Suddenly, the Reaper forgets about all of his plans that he had for you. He’s feeling so much hatred for that _look_. It’s racing through his system, unstoppable heat that carries no rational thought. All he wants to do is permanently remove it from his sight, never wants it to be seen again.

As you start to try and back away, you hear Hanzo summon the dragons. The room suddenly drops immensely in temperature, and your breath turns into plums of ice. The tendril of smoke that is rocketing towards you scoops up a large dagger-like shard of glass from the ground, and then hurls it towards you. The bots react in kind and don’t give you a choice in the matter. They calculate where the shard is going to hit and pull themselves from your chest first. Just barely shielding you in time as the pointy end of the glass careens in between your ribs and shatters.

The bots have no control over where the pieces ricochet. Nothing about their trajectory is planned or coordinated. A piece of the glass careens towards Hanzo’s throat as the dragons are turning Reaper into a living statue. His wraith-like form and tendrils stand frozen in a state of perpetual motion. The dragons settle in on either side of the room, ensuring that the climate stays cold enough to keep the Reaper at bay. All in the same moment the shard of glass slices open the side of Hanzo’s throat. 

Your world suddenly feels as if it’s made of mud. The air too thick to breathe, too heavy to move through quickly. A sickening amount of blood spurts from his neck. So hot as it hits your face, neck, and arm. You immediately comm Angela. Your voice muffled to your own ears, sounding as if you are talking under water. She’s close? She’s on her way? You can barely hear her. Your ears are too flooded with the sound of your own heartbeat, too damaged from the explosions. 

Before Hanzo falls to the ground, he finishes what he started. Aims a scatter of arrows towards the ceiling. When he lets it off it shatters Reaper into dozens of pieces. Breaks off his head. It hits the hard floor and shatters into even more smaller segments. 

You get to Hanzo’s side as quick as you can. Help him lay back onto the ground and rip the scarf out of his hair. You tie it around his neck so tightly that he can barely breathe. What else is there to do? It’s either air or blood flow. On top of the scarf your apply your own pressure with your hand. You’ve only got one good one, the other is lying unless, limp at your side. Everything in the vicinity is messy with his blood. The golden scarf already stained a deep red. It’s slippery and hard to get a proper grip, but you keep trying anyway.

Hanzo is hyperventilating. His chest heaving up and down rapidly. Never able to get a proper intake of breath. He clutches onto your wrist. All the heat his skin usually carries gone, now replaced by cold and clammy. Hanzo tries to say something, but it comes out strangled and wordless. The sound of it tears you up from heart to gut, tears brim in your water line.  _Do not start crying right now, do not be that selfish._

“Hanzo just focus on breathing-“ Your voice cracks and you have to take in a deep breathe, “Angela will be here soon… just stick with me,  _please_.”

You get closer to his face and whisper with conviction, “You are so strong, and I love you so much. You can survive this.”

Genji shows up first, followed shortly by Angela. You can hear the sound of Peacekeeper of in the distance, but not too far away. Genji removes your hands, stating that he can hold the pressure better. You fall back onto your butt and bring your arm up to your face. Wiping away tears. When had you started crying? 

Angela wastes no time giving Genji instructions and commands. Your attention is torn away for a brief moment when the dragons let off a tragic whine. You look behind you to see them slowly fading. Like plums of shiny glitter and ice dissipating into the air. Not at all the normal procedure for their departure. 

You whisper, “Please don’t go.”

They’ve faded away completely before you can even get the last syllable out. The room starts to revert back to his normal temperature. Your head spins and your vision starts to become shaky. You've broken down, completely lost it. All of your composure and will lost to anguish. The last thing you can remember is Angela demanding Genji carry Hanzo and a familiar blurred sight of a cowboy hat and a red serape.

 

*

 

Angela’s been in this profession for what feels like her whole life. And no matter how many times she relays bad news, it never gets easier. It shouldn't be shocking that people as strong as you or as poised as Genji would break down in the face of uncertainty. She's seen it dozens of times before. People that she never thought she'd see break down into tears of helplessness; falling apart when she can't assure them that the one that they love and care about will pull through. And yet it is shocking and it hurts, just as bad as all the other times. 

Unfortunately, right now, that's the case. All she can do is monitor Hanzo and hope. And having to be reduced down to hoping for the best sucks. She knows it, everyone in this room knows it. There’s only one thing to her that feels worse than hoping, and that's false hope. She has only ever given that once in her career and that was one of the worst mistakes she had ever made.

So no matter how much it breaks her heart to see Genji and you so distraught, she has no other words of assurance. No matter how many “Well possibly’s” or “I feel” or “I think’s” she’s got sitting on the tip of her tongue. She simply doesn't know without a doubt if Hanzo is ever going to wake up again.

All she has is that dreaded line, “There’s just nothing else I can do right now… I’m so sorry.” 

There are numerous things about her infirmary right now that usually, she wouldn't tolerate. The number of people. How huddled they are to the bed where Hanzo lies. And that damn dog…. She shakes her head. Get’s rid of the mini-rant about the unsanitary nature of animals. Animals have proven to be helpful for patients recovery, so she’ll let it slide. Besides, she couldn't pry the pup from under your arm anyway. The poor creature taking the brunt of the tears and silent sobs. Your face buried into her stomach while she's curled up next to Hanzo’s waist on the hospital bed.

Genji sits on the other side of Hanzo. Slumped in a chair. One bouncing leg crossed over the other. Arms crossed, fists clenched near his biceps. He hasn't removed his visor and won’t. Jesse’s arm gently laid across his shoulder, gliding a comforting hand up and down his arm. Genji’s dragon is curled up next to Hanzo as well but they’re restless. Their tail lifting up and slamming back down onto the bed over and over.  _Pat… pat… pat.. pat…_

You are not without your own comforter. Hana rubs your back, grazes her nails along your shoulders. All while saying soft toned words of encouragement and… hope. You really should be in a hospital bed as well. You’ve got your own amalgamation of injuries that you need to be recovering from. Including something else that Angela couldn’t even bear to bring up right now. She’s breaking all kinds of ethical codes by keeping it to herself. But she’s the boss here, and the only consequences she’ll have to deal with are her own guilt.

Angela has to pull herself away. There are others she needs to attend to. She is not without help anymore. Has other seasoned war doctors and nurses at her command. But every patient in this infirmary is her responsibility. Hers to ensure they get the best medical care possible.

She sighs and says softly, “I’ll be back within the hour to check on him.” Before she takes her leave, she leans down and whispers into Hana’s ear, “If you can manage to get her into a bed I’d be grateful.”

Hana nods and returns the whisper, “I’ll do my best.”

You can't bring yourself to look at him anymore. Can't bear to look at his pale face or the bruised sections of skin. The amounts of tubes and breathing apparatuses working to help keep him alive. Guilt turns your heart into a solid piece of rock. No amount of rational thinking could help you convince yourself that this is not your fault. If he— you can't even finish the thought without a sob breaking the concentration required to complete it. If you manage to be gifted with a reprieve from this horrible nightmare you've found yourself in, you'll never willingly enter into another situation that would warrant this kind of outcome again. There's no objective, no object in the world, valuable or important enough to make  _this_  worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/) (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃


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